Gravity
by Ms-Maggs
Summary: Sara’s birthday is the catalyst for a chain of events that leaves the team members searching for answers to questions both old and new. When forensics can’t provide all the answers where do scientists turn? The gang is all here in many combos. (Complete)
1. Chapter 1

**Gravity**

**By Ms. Maggs  
****Edited by Joan R. **

_The whole cast is here…a little something for everyone and a few twists along the way. Starts out light but hang on for the ride._

**Prologue**

**9/13/04 **

It was just after two a.m. when Grissom held open the door to Club Rage for Sara. Immediately they were assaulted with the throbbing pulse of the bass and the hedonistic atmosphere.

Turning to Grissom, Sara screamed in his ear, "this is what The Strip would sound like if it were enclosed. Why do people like this?"

"Because they don't know the joy of reading an Entomology book to Mozart?" He motioned to the bar. "The suit over there has to be the manager. Let's inform him we're here to use his Ladies Room." Moving through the rowdy crowd the noise intensified. It was moments like these when Grissom thought deafness wouldn't have been so bad after all. "Mr. Gomez?"

Victor Gomez, a menacing 30-something sporting an eclectic combination of tattoos and bling, downed his glass of whiskey and wiped his lips. Who wants to know?"

At the top of his lungs he replied, "I'm Gil Grissom, this is Sara Sidle, we're with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. We need to take a look in your Ladies' Room."

"Why? Nothing's happened here?" Nervously he scanned the club looking for any blatant illegal activity. "Don't you need a warrant to be here?"

Even louder, "Look a girl…"

Sensing Mr. Gomez would respond better to a woman; Sara tapped Grissom on the shoulder and gestured to let her have a try. Jumping up, she sat on the bar to get a clean shot at Mr. Gomez's ear. "Don't worry Mr. Gomez, there was no crime here." Although she was sure she could find plenty if she tried. "A girl was killed after she left here yesterday and based on what her friend told us, the last thing she did before she left was make a phone call in the Ladies' Room. This is just routine procedure. We need to see if she left anything behind. We'll give you a minute to clear out the room so your guests aren't surprised." Surprised meaning caught with their pants down or needles out.

Gomez winked. "No problem, honey. I'll have one of my girls go in there and clear everyone out."

"Thank you for your cooperation." In one slick move Sara hopped down from the bar and picked up her kit.

Grissom, once he found his voice, shrieked, "What the hell was that?"

"Our new cranky cop, cute cop routine?" Enjoying his vexation, she explained, "look, I just wanted to get us out of this hell hole before our heads crack open. People like us can't handle sustained chaos very long. We're on borrowed time." Without waiting for Grissom she headed toward the back of the club where Mr. Gomez was motioning an all clear. "Thanks, we'll let you know when we're done. Until then, no one enters."

Once inside, Grissom and Sara took a moment to savor the relative quiet and scan the room. From the looks of things it was quite obvious the room hadn't been thoroughly cleaned in days.

"Very nice." Grissom mused as he studied the multitude of toiletries and accessories on the counter. "You could open a drug store with this inventory."

"It's not easy being a girl." Sara sighed as she snapped pictures. "What we have to go through to get a guy's attention…" She could feel his stare on the back of her head. "And even then there's no guarantee he'll give us the time of day."

"One fifteen a.m."

She grinned behind her camera.

"Trash or floor?" He asked while snapping on a fresh set of gloves.

In her best sitcom wife voice she replied, "Would you take out the trash tonight, honey?" And while it wouldn't seem possible to enjoy crawling around in a sticky bathroom she was having a wonderful time.

Rummaging through the first trash can Grissom inquired, "So, Sara…where did you learn that little bar hop maneuver?"

"During the Harvard years…O'Malley's Pub." She answered while crawling under a sink sifting through discarded paper towels. "When you're on a tight budget it helps to get close to the bartenders."

"Ahh." Try as he might he couldn't help but ponder the meaning of _close_ in her answer. It was times like these he questioned his sanity. Could he really be jealous of something that _might_ have happened over a decade ago when he didn't even know Sara? And how could he be jealous at all when she wasn't his girl? Especially since she wasn't his girl because he had turned her down when she asked him out a year ago. For a man of science and logic the conundrum was most troubling.

"I've got something!" Sara jumped up waving a slip of paper. "A note on our vic's stationary. There's an address." Quickly she sealed it in a plastic bag.

Coming up right behind her he examined the find. "Personalized stationary…that's a lucky break."

"An early birthday present, perhaps?" It was a hint for sure.

"That's right, it's your birthday is soon isn't it." Reaching up he pointed to the address on the note, his fingertips just brushing over Sara's hand. One nanosecond of innocent physical contact and his train of thought derailed.

His proximity combined with the feel of his jacket sleeve against her arm activated a familiar flutter in her stomach. Cocking her head she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Were you…um….going to say something about the address?"

Turning towards her silky voice he met her quizzical gaze. "Wh..what?"

"You're pointing to the address but you're not saying anything." Their faces were only inches apart and she fought the urge to once and for all eliminate the gap.

"Oh…the address." Clearing his throat while trying to clear his thoughts, he backed away. "Yeah, I recognize it from another case. Belonged to a dealer. Last I heard he was still locked up but prisons are crowded he could have got out or maybe he sublet to a murderous friend."

"Right." She was certain he felt the surge between them. Then again she was certain at least a dozen other times over the past few months and still they never discussed it. Hell, from the day she met him at Berkeley and exchanged smiles she was certain something was there but that was almost six years ago. "I'll phone in the address and get things moving."

"Good." Pointing to the door, he cracked, "I'll go tell your new buddy, Gomez, that he can have his restroom back."

Chuckling, she teased, "Are you going to hop on the bar to tell him?"

After Grissom left the room, Sara shook her head and sighed. Business as usual….flirt--share a moment --deny there was a moment…business as usual. This cycle, like several others in her life, was really starting to wear her down.

**Chapter 1**

**9/16/04**

Nick and Warrick arrived in the break room at nine p.m. just as Catherine had instructed.

"Looks like we're the first ones here." Nick plopped into a chair and unfurled a laborious yawn. "Man, I really could have used a few more hours of sleep."

Warrick headed straight for the coffee. There was no doubt in his mind that one of Nick's famous hook-up stories was coming. "How many hours did you get?"

"None." Grinning, he eagerly explained, "Remember that girl I told you I met at that ballistics seminar …"

Handing Nick a steaming cup of java he leaned against the wall. "The red head with the legs that never end?"

"That would be her." A self-professed leg man, he hadn't been able to resist. "I'm at The House of Blues and who just happens to be there…"

Greg interrupted the conversation by bursting through the doorway. "Am I late?"

Nick chuckled into his coffee, "Hell no, I was just getting to the good part of my story."

Catherine pushed Greg further into the room, "Hurry up, Sara is right behind me." Quickly she emptied the contents of her brown paper shopping bag on the break table…a pink cardboard cake box, a small gold gift bag tied with a burgundy satin ribbon and a white envelope.

Greg curiously inspected the gift bag. "Pretty small bag." His imagination got the better of him. "Lingerie? Very tiny lingerie? Will she have to try it on to make sure it fits?"

Snatching the bag out of his hands Catherine returned it to the table. "Sorry to disappoint. It's a gift card…for the book store." She had purposely picked a bland gift hoping that Grissom's, whatever it was, would be more exciting. Not that she ever expected to know what he got her. Grissom would give it to Sara in private and she'd never share the details.

Hoisting himself from his chair Nick joined the group. Patting Greg on the back he quipped, "Don't you know by know that Sara would prefer to receive lingerie from someone other than us. You see…oh hey look, it's Sara…"

"Are you talking about me?" Sara quizzed while stepping into the room.

"Surprise!" The group responded a little too late. "Happy Birthday!"

Cracking an appreciative smile, she gushed. "Thanks, guys." She surveyed the room looking for Grissom whom she quickly determined was no where to be found. "Thanks for remembering." Aside from cards from her Insurance Agent and dentist, her co-workers were the only ones who ever acknowledged her birthday. Of course she hid the extent of her gratitude behind a tough façade so they never knew it meant the world to her to know they cared.

Rubbing his hands together over the cake box, Nick eagerly peeled back the lid. "I had quite the workout earlier today and I'm starving."

Slapping his hand away, Catherine reached for the envelope, handing it to Sara. "Can we let her read her card and open her gift first?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Grissom?" Sara asked Catherine while nervously glancing over her shoulder.

"This is just from us so I don't think he'll mind."

"Oh…okay." While Sara pondered the significance of Grissom's lack of participation in the group gift she slipped the card out of the envelope. _Happy 34th birthday from the gang. _Signed by: _Nick, Catherine, Warrick and Greg._

Watching Sara open their gift, Greg couldn't help himself. "Catherine did the shopping. If I had done the shopping it would have been something different. I mean just so you know…I would have picked something more…personal."

"Thanks, Greg but I think the gift card is great. There's a new forensic anthropology text coming out next week and I'll use it for that. Thanks everybody." After another quick glance toward the hallway she announced, "Let's eat cake."

Minutes later, Grissom, his face buried in paperwork, walked through the door.

Licking the chocolate frosting off his fingers, Nick greeted him, "hey, you're just in time for cake."

"Cake?" Grissom looked up from his papers and surveyed the scene, his eyes stopping on Sara and the anticipatory look on her face. "Cake…that's right…it's your birthday."

When she realized his absence was attributed soley to forgetfulness she struggled to hide her disappointment. "Yeah…same time every year."

Greg blurted, "We got her a gift card to the bookstore. I hope you were more creative with your gift."

"My…gift…" With five pairs of eyes fixed bearing down on him he froze.

Tossing his empty cake plate in the trash, Nick grabbed Warrick and Greg by the elbows escorting them out the door. "I just remembered I didn't show you the results of that test from that case with that man who did that thing…"

"What case?" A puzzled Greg inquired as he was halfway out the door.

Baffled, Catherine stood gaping. In order to prevent this exact situation she had made a point of reminding Grissom of Sara's impending birthday_ multiple_ times over the past two weeks. "Unbelievable", she mumbled as she followed the guys out of the room shutting the door behind her.

"I'm sorry, Sara," Grissom groveled. "Things have been crazy around here today and I…"

"No problem, I know you're a busy man with bigger priorities." Making a beeline for the door she snapped, "Now if you'll excuse me I'll be in autopsy doing a post-mortem." Under her breath she added, "On my life."

"Sara…" Before he could finish the door closed and he was alone in the room. "I didn't _forget_ your birthday."

**

* * *

**A half hour since the awkward moment in the break room, Nick and Warrick were busy comparing DNA results from the Ludwick gang-rape case. When Grissom appeared in the lab with assignments they froze, psychically pleading not to be paired with Sara tonight. 

As if nothing had happened earlier, Grissom routinely announced the night's casework. "Nick, I need you out at The Flying Aces Motel for a 419. They found a girl in room 204. Take Sara with you. Warrick, I need you out with Catherine following up on the DeMarco case. That's it." In a flash he was out the door and down the hall.

Warrick, thrilled he was spared a night with Sara, couldn't hide his excitement.

Nick, on the other hand, rubbed his temples and groaned. "Just what I needed, a night in the field with the pissed-off birthday girl and the vic had to be a woman…that will set her off even more."

"Hey, good luck with that, man." Warrick peeled off his gloves smiling. "You better wear a coat. Even though it's 90 degrees out, I'm predicting a frosty night for you."

* * *

When they arrived at The Flying Aces a little before ten, Nick and Sara checked in with Brass, the homicide detective at the scene. 

"The hotel manager, Tim Bentley, found her around 8:30p.m." Brass gestured toward the staircase. "The room wasn't registered to her or anyone else. No ID on the vic so right now she's a Jane Doe."

As she mounted the stairs Sara inquired, "What made the manager go to the room if there were no guests?"

"TV was on the fritz and he was bringing a new set." Brass checked his notes. "You'll see the new set broken on the floor in the room. The guy dropped it when he saw the girl. Said he never saw anything so horrible." Holding up the yellow crime tape he waited for Sara and Nick to go through the door before following them.

Sara shook her head as she pulled on her gloves. The girl's body lay under the grungy motel blanket exposing only her cherubic face and long curly blond locks. "Can't be more than 17."

Nick recognized the look building in his partner's eyes. "Sara, why don't you take the camera and let me..." Seeing the victim's clothes on the floor he figured it was going to be a rape case.

"No." Upon taking a step closer she heard an alarm sound in her head. "Wait a minute. Brass…you said the hotel manager dropped the TV because he was horrified. This girl is covered with a blanket, she looks peaceful, there's no bloody carnage showing, why did he...did he cover her?"

"He said he didn't touch a thing. The guy was a wreck when I talked to him I doubt he went anywhere near the body."

On fire, Sara bolted from the room. "Who was first on the scene?" She shouted out to the uniforms. "I want an answer now! Who was first in that room?!"

"I…I was ma'am." The rookie cop stepped forward, a blond All-American type who barely looked old enough to gamble on The Strip. "I'm Officer Barnes. I was…uh…I was the first one in the room."

"Did you place a blanket over the victim?"

"I…"

Blood pressure rising, she got in his face. "Answer my question, dammit!"

"I couldn't just leave her…"

Outraged she closed in. "Didn't they teach you anything at the academy. You don't tamper with the crime scene EVER! No matter what you see or how you feel!"

Nick rushed over, "Sara calm down."

"No, Nick, I won't calm down!" Without thinking, she batted him away like a fly.

The cop pleaded, "I'm really sorry. She reminded me of my kid sister and I couldn't stand to…"

Raging, she continued to make her point. "What if that was your sister in there? What if an asinine move by a rookie cop destroyed critical evidence and her killer was never caught because of it. How would you like THAT! That body and that crime scene is that girl's last chance for justice. They need to talk to me and I can't help her if you screw up...."

Brass forcefully pulled her away. "Enough, Sara. You made your point. I'll talk to his commanding officer. He'll be reprimanded." Taking her arm he authoritatively whispered, "Walk with me, please."

"I'm really sorry," the cop shouted after her.

"Tell that to the dead girl you son of bitch!" Sara reluctantly walked down the outdoor hallway with Brass.

"I think I better call Grissom and get someone else out here."

"No!" She leaned over the railing. "I just need a minute." Running her fingers through her hair. "I didn't need this tonight. I don't need this ANY night but really not tonight." She started her stress-reducing breathing routine she had been given by her P.E.A.P counselor. 10-9-8…

Brass offered a supportive smile. "I know. Hell of a way to spend your birthday. But yeah, it could be worse, right."

3-2-1. As her heart rate normalized, vulnerability replaced her anger. "Yeah, I'm not the dead girl under the blanket."

"And you're not the one who is going to have to tell the dead girl's parents they won't be celebrating their daughter's next birthday." Brass released a labored sigh. "Happy Birthday, Sara."

Taking a deep breath she righted herself and forced a smile. "Thank you for breaking up my pity party."

"Hey, I've thrown a few for myself over the years. My preferred guest was always a large bottle of whiskey but we've uh…talked about that already. You do remember us talking about that, right? Never a good way to handle stress."

Groaning, she felt the need to explain herself. "I'm not going leave here and booze it up again if that's what you're inferring. I already learned that lesson and moved on." Try as she might for a while the drinking didn't drown out the victim's screams or the echoes of her own from the past.

"Birthdays mess people up. I refer to it as the,'what the hell…another year over and I'm standing in the same place' feeling." A knowing grin broke out on his face. "That feeling can make you do some crazy things."

A curious glint sparkled in her eye. "Sounds like you're speaking from personal experience."

Chuckling, he replied, "I am, but you're still far too young and innocent to hear the stories."

Straightening up, she rubbed her hands together. "Well they say it's better to give than receive so I'm going back in there and giving it my best to bring that girl some justice."

He nodded. "Ah…now you're talking." Walking back toward the hotel room he said, "Bringing down a murdering scumbag elevates my mood every time."

**

* * *

**

It was almost midnight and Nick was checking the cars in the parking lot of The Flying Aces when Lieutenant Mike Rodgers approached. "Hey, Nick."

"Hey, what's going on? I didn't know you were working this scene."

Nick had met Mike last month in the workout room at the station. Mike's jet black hair and the fact that he had easily out chest-pressed Nick made it seem impossible that the guy was forty-four. After a couple of run-ins with Mike, Nick instantly felt a brotherly rapport.

It was understandable since Mike was a transfer from Dallas PD, an eighteen year veteran of the force. He had moved back to Vegas, his birthplace, after his wife's death a year ago.He had shared a few beers and a few stories at The San Remo only days ago and Nick considered him to have excellent buddy potential.

Mike leaned against the nearest car. "So tell me what happened with your co-worker and my rookie. Whatever she said, the kid is messed up. He wants to turn in his badge to go work security at the mall."

"Sara will be happy to know that." Nick chuckled. "Your guy screwed up on the wrong night with the wrong CSI." Catching a glimpse of Sara across the parking lot he pointed. "There she is. Sara Sidle. She's a great girl but she doesn't have much tolerance for procedural slip-ups; especially not tonight."

With raised eyebrows he watched her working the scene. "Nice looking. Married? Has a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Lesbian?"

Choking on his own laughter Nick replied, "No!"

"Then what's her story, man?"

"Sara is…she's really into her work. She doesn't allow herself much time for fun. Today is her birthday and she's just got some stuff on her mind. You know women; they always have to analyze their life on their birthdays. She's hurting a little because she was waiting for a Hallmark greeting that didn't pan out, you know what I mean?" He studied Mike's gaze. "Why? Are you thinking of asking her out?"

"I…oh…I have to have ten years on her, do you think…"

Nick chuckled at the moment of insecurity. "Trust me. She likes older guys." Cupping his mouth with his hands he shouted, "hey, Sara, over here." He knew she wouldn't say yes but figured being hit on would boost her bruised ego.

With the weight of the world on her shoulders, Sara trudged over to Nick. "What?"

"I want to introduce you to Lt. Mike Rodgers, a friend of mine and…Officer Barnes, supervisor."

Sara ignited. "I hope you got that punk's badge. No one messes with my crime scene!"

Nick lowered his gaze thinking…what a way to make a first impression…bite the guys head off. Much to his surprise Mike remained calm.

"Ms. Sidle I completely understand your frustration and Officer Barnes will be reprimanded. We'll put him back behind a desk until he can comprehend the serious nature of your work." Softly, he smiled. "I on the other hand do understand the importance of your job and thank you for your dedication. Without people like you nailing the bad guys, there would be a lot more creeps out there."

His sensitivity diffusing her anger, Sara relaxed her stance.

Mike slipped a little closer. "I was wondering…you see I'm pretty new in town …maybe some time you would like to grab a cup of coffee and talk about the job. It's hard not having anyone to discuss things with after a long night at work and… " Shaking his head he lightly laughed, "I'm a little rusty at this forgive me. My wife…she died a little over a year ago and I haven't really asked anyone out in a while."

Staring into his empathetic brown eyes she replied, "Sure, I'll have coffee with you." She couldn't believe the words were coming from her mouth. Her head throbbed and her stomach churned, all she wanted to do was work this case until the sick bastard responsible for Jane Doe's death was hauled in. If she could have taken back the words…but it was too late. "9 a.m. at the breakfast shop around the corner from the station but I'll just be taking a break so I won't be able to stay very long."

"No problem." Mike, pleased with his success, winked. "I'll see you then. Good luck with the case."

Once Mike was out of range Sara barked at Nick whose mouth was hanging open. "What?"

"I'm just shocked you said yes."

"Why?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets he asked, "Do you REALLY want me to answer that?" He waited, hoping she would say yes so it would finally be out in the open instead of being the ignored elephant in the room.

Burying her face in her hands she groaned. "No…no, don't answer." Hearing it out loud would only confirm how pathetic her behavior had been all these years. They all knew how she felt about Grissom and they all watched him shut her out time and time again.

Nick did the next best thing. "Hey Sara, Mike may not be a genius but from what I can tell he seems like a good guy; someone who could appreciate you. Hell, it's just coffee. See where it goes. And if he turns out to be an ass you can blame me for introducing you."

Inhaling the crisp night air she turned to face the motel. Although the coroner had just finished removing the poor girl's body her work here wasn't done.

**

* * *

**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Alone in the quiet motel room processing the last of her samples Sara heard it….the victim's scream. Closing her eyes she rested against the wall, pressing her hands to her chest. The feeling was always the same…her lungs tightened as if all the oxygen inside was borrowed to fuel the piercing yell.

The first time it happened was when she was working the Kay Shelton case. Since then, Kay's screams, along with a handful of others, haunted her. No matter how much time passed the screams never went away; they just hid until they were awakened by the next grisly case. Some days when she thought, _today I have processed my last victim I can't take it anymore I have to quit_, those same screams quieted to a whisper and begged her to stay. They begged her to stay for the ones yet to come who would need her to tell their story.

"Sara…"

In the distance she heard her name and fought her way back from the fog. The screams subsiding, the air slowly returned to her lungs.

Walking into the room Grissom knelt beside her. "Sara…" Concerned he watched her eyelids flutter open. "Are you okay?" Instantly he knew the answer was no. Her pained expression was all too familiar. He first experienced it during the Kay Shelton case.

In their line of work empathizing with the victim was normal but Sara didn't just get caught up in the Shelton case, she was consumed by it. It was during that case that he had found himself driven to find answers he didn't even know he was capable of producing. Not once before had he been motivated to solve a case for anyone but the victim or his own insatiable curiosity but during the Shelton case, his motivation took a decidedly different turn…he worked first and foremost to restore Sara. Not that he ever told her.

Inhaling sharply, Sara finally replied, "Um…I'm fine." Not desiring to be a blubbering mess in front of consummately unemotional boss she fought back her tears and rose to her feet. "I…I haven't eaten all day and I was feeling a little weak." Avoiding his gaze she worked to compose herself.

Sensing her struggle he switched gears as he stood up beside her. "I spoke to Nick out in the parking lot and he told me about the breech." If he just stuck to business he knew she would regain control. "Do you think it will compromise the investigation?" Clicking on his flashlight he busied himself inspecting the room.

Her eyes fixed on the floor she mechanically answered. "No, it should be fine. Petechial hemmorraging indicated that she was strangled. Bruises around the neck substantiated. Lividity confirmed she died here at the motel. We found a couple of vials of a clear odorless substance under the bed. My guess would be GHB. I'll wait for Trace to confirm. I'm thinking the vials rolled out of the killer's pants when he dropped them to rape her." Emotion momentarily crept back into her voice. "No sign of struggle. Her one break tonight…unconsciousness." And then it was back to business. "Her killer's DNA was found in, on and around her body. If we get a hit on CODIS case closed. If not, we'll go from there. We've got plenty of prints for AFIS and enough fibers to weave a blanket. But I'm hopeful for CODIS because I think this guy has a history. He just upped the ante tonight."

"Good work." Clicking off his flashlight he returned his gaze to Sara. "I heard about your confrontation with the rookie."

"Yeah, well." Frustration powered her voice. "Lecture away but it won't do any good." Leaning over she snapped her kit closed. "Anyone who hinders my ability to nail the sick bastards who do this stuff to little girls..."

"No lecture." His voice softened. "The kid needed a wake up call." When their eyes met he saw her desperate plea for some comforting words or a reassuring touch. "Sara…" Paralyzed as usual by over-analysis the words refused to take flight. If he said one comforting phrase how would she respond? If she responded emotionally, would he? Would he find himself saying things he didn't want to say? Would a hand on the shoulder lead to a hug and once she was in his arms how could he ever let her go? The risk wasn't an option, certainly not here, not now.

Tired of waiting for words that never came, Sara shifted her eyes to the door. "If we're through here I'm in a hurry to get these samples to DNA and Trace. The way this guy feasted tonight he's not going to slow down." Her voice trembled in rhythm with her shaking hands. "It makes me sick to think he's out there right now with another girl in his crosshairs." Suddenly fighting the urge to vomit, she grabbed her kit and headed for the door. "I'll be in the lab. Nick said he would wrap things up here."

Following her out the door he tried to think of a way to help. "I'll call Greg and make sure he understands to work your stuff first." It wasn't a kind word or a caring embrace but it was helpful and it was the best he could do.

"Appreciated," she yelled as she hurried down the stairs.

Brass, who had been just outside the room the whole time, walked toward Grissom. "Should I be worried?"

"Sara's strong, she'll be fine." If only he believed his words. By now she would be behind the wheel of her truck, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Brass turned to his friend. "I was talking about you."

Masking all emotion Grissom gave the requisite, "I'm fine."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Looking up from his report Nick checked his watch and noted it was 8:45 a.m. "Sara…" For the last several hours she had been processing evidence from The Flying Aces murder with a passion. "Sara!"

She didn't lift her eyes from her microscope. "What?"

"It's 8:45."

"So."

Shaking his head he walked over and unfocused her microscope.

"Hey!"

"Good I've finally got your attention." He pointed to his watch. "You have less than fifteen minutes to clean up and get down to the coffee shop to meet Mike."

Enjoying the safety of the familiar setting, doing a familiar job with familiar people, she turned to her colleague and pleaded. "Can't you just go down there and tell him I got swamped..."

"Uh…NO!" Nick took her by the hand. "This isn't High School. If you changed your mind you need to be a big girl and go tell him yourself."

Reluctantly she removed her lab coat. "Okay…okay, I'll get a shot of Espresso and be back up here in ten minutes." Plodding out the door she ran into Catherine.

Noticing her coworker's dour expression she said, "Sara, you look like you're headed for the firing squad."

Nick snickered, "She has a date."

"A date?" Catherine suddenly felt two steps behind.

"It's not a date," Sara groaned. "It's ONE coffee at The Egg Stop with this cop from the scene last night. It's Nick's fault, he introduced him to me and…"

"8:53 Sara." Nick prodded while tapping his watch.

"Okay, okay I'm going."

Catherine waited until Sara was down the hall. "Nicky playing Cupid…very cute."

"Purely selfish." Chuckling he returned to his seat and picked up his next slide. "Things will be a lot less intense around here if Sara gets some action."

"You really think her one-track mind can be swayed by an ordinary cop." Catherine knew better.

With a wink he answered, "It's not her mind that needs swaying."

Catherine slipped into her lab coat, flicking her golden locks out from under the collar. "Not gonna happen. You see Sara needs her mind stimulated as much as…you get my drift."

Digging for his wallet he scoffed, "Twenty bucks says the cop will get a second date."

"You're on." She pulled up the chair next to him and began her line of questioning. "How old is this guy?"

"Forty-four."

With a knowing smile she chuckled. "Well that will significantly help his odds." She began a mental tally. "Looks? Bod?"

"6'2", dark hair, dark eyes, can out press me at the gym."

Raising a brow she inquired, "And why did you introduce him to Sara and not me?"

Lowering his voice to a sexy whisper he gave her the answer she wanted to hear, "because I was helping the needy and Catherine…you, my dear, are anything but needy."

Suddenly Grissom burst through the door. "Where's Sara?" Catching his breath he panned the room. "CODIS came through for her vic." He couldn't wait to tell her and begin the restoration process.

Catherine, much to Nick's surprise, announced, "she's on break at The Egg Stop. But if you want to talk to her you're going to have to hoof it down there because she left her cell phone and pager here."

Without another word, Grissom fled the room as if he were chasing a Bark Beetle.

Aghast at his so called friend's cheap tactic. "You manipulative b…"

"Hey, twenty bucks is twenty bucks." Catherine snickered. She knew as soon as Sara saw Grissom, coffee with the hunky cop would abruptly end. "Anyway it's for the best because your plan stinks."

"What? Why?" Impatiently Nick waited for an explanation.

"You actually believe the work atmosphere will improve if Sara gets lucky?" Shaking her head she eyed him like a naïve schoolboy. "Did you stop to consider how it would affect THE BOSS? Have you forgotten the cold front that blew in during the Hank months?"

A chill ran up his spine. "Damn."

* * *

Twirling her spoon in the brown pool of coffee, Sara searched for the desire to remain in her chair. Sure Mike was a nice guy but this was the last place she wanted to be right now. How she wished she had gone for the espresso shot instead of the grande. 

Mike, sensing his date was a million miles away, offered her an out. "If you need to get back to work I'll understand."

Was she that obvious? " Sorry…" Placing her spoon on her napkin she finally looked up. "Certain cases really get to me and when I'm in this kind of funk I don't usually take breaks or have coffee with…people."

"There's nothing to be sorry about. Like I said last night, I'm really impressed with your dedication, Sara." Leaning in he smiled. "I'd love to sit down and discuss the details of your work. Forensic Science has always intrigued me."

"It's fascinating. I can't imagine doing anything else." Sitting back in her chair she sipped her coffee. The truth was she didn't do anything else. Did she even remember how?

"You must really need to decompress after cases like last night's." Intently, he studied her eyes. "What do you do for fun when you're not working?"

"For fun?" She parroted. "When I'm not working?" When she wasn't actually working she was thinking about work. "Hmm…"

In an effort to keep the conversation rolling, Mike prattled on. "Yeah, like I'm an outdoor guy, I like hiking, mountain biking, sailing. Although I haven't sailed since I moved from California. I actually sold my boat. My wife and I we had this great boat…" He stopped himself. "Sorry, that's the second time I've brought up my deceased wife. I really shouldn't…I have this problem of just saying what I feel. I really should keep my mouth shut…"

"No." Sara bolted up in her chair as if she had just seen an exotic animal. "I like that quality in a man. Feel free to tell me whatever your thinking." Talk about a one-eighty from Grissom.

With just the right dose of school boy charm he replied, "Right now I'm thinking I wish we were having dinner instead of coffee."

They shared a laugh and she eased back into her chair.

"So you didn't answer my question. What do you do for fun?"

"Oh yeah." She tried to think of an answer that wouldn't sound pathetic which meant the truth was definitely out of the question. "I like movies."

"Me too." Relaxed, he took another sip from his mug. "What was the last movie you saw?"

Busted she tried to cover. "I said I LIKE movies but I haven't seen one in a while because I've been pulling double shifts and…" Then she realized the irony of appreciating the guy for being honest while she sat across the table lying through her teeth. "Okay you know what…I haven't been to the movies in over a year." Tossing her hands in the air she gave herself up. "I don't have fun…at least what normal people would call fun. I work, I read, and ever so often I sleep. That's pretty much it. There you have it. I have no life. I'm pathetic." Maybe now he'd run screaming from the room and she could retreat to her safety zone back at the lab.

Engaged by her frankness Mike smiled. "Trust me; I know how easy it is to get consumed by the job. I did that for the first ten years of my career. You're not pathetic; you're just out of practice. So am I. Why not work together to break the cycle?" Knowing Sara was anxious to return to work he motioned for the waitress to bring the check. "How about catching a movie tomorrow? Maybe a bite to eat after?"

"Oh…ummm…" She just couldn't bring herself to do it. As nice as Mike was he just wasn't… "Grissom?" She had seen him out of the corner of her eye as he tore through the restaurant waving a piece of paper.

"Sara! We got a hit on CODIS." He rushed to her never noticing she wasn't alone. "Brass has the suspect under surveillance while we wait for the warrant."

Lit up like a Christmas tree she grabbed the file out of Grissom's hand. "I knew it wasn't that bastard's first time."

Mike cleared his throat. "Uh…Sara are you going to introduce me?"

"What?" It wasn't until she heard his voice that she remembered he was there. "Forgive me. Mike Rodgers this is Gil Grissom my…my boss." Yes, that's all he really was. "Mike was the supervising officer at The Flying Aces last night."

Grissom extended his hand while noting the badge information on Officer Rodgers' uniform. "I hear Sara really straightened out your boy."

Winking at Sara he said, "She scared the crap out of him."

Grissom kept his eyes locked on Mike while replying. "Yes, well he wouldn't be the first man she terrified." After all, he was a charter member of the club. "Well it was nice to meet you." Abruptly he announced. "Come on, Sara," while motioning for her to follow.

"Uh Grissom…I was kind of in the middle of something here." She flashed him a harsh glance. "Can you give me two minutes and I'll meet you outside."

Suddenly the picture in front of him came into focus and he didn't enjoy the frame. Irritated, he snapped, "If you're too busy I'll just pick up the warrant without you."

Her voice turned edgy. "Two minutes, that's all I'm asking. You can't give me two minutes?" That's all the time it would take to politely turn down Mike's offer. What the hell was Grissom's problem? Then she realized…it was one of those classic Grissom moments. He did this every time she had something else going on when he asked her to jump. Yes, he never wanted her too far away or too close.

Turning, Grissom headed for the door. "I'll just handle it without you and fill you in later."

Incensed, Sara jumped up from her chair. "No you won't, it's my case!" He was already out the door. "Damn him!" Looking down at Mike she hurriedly gave him a different answer than she originally intended. "Yes, I'd love to go out tomorrow. Four okay? Meet in front of the station?"

Mike, still trying to make sense of the drama, stumbled, "uh…sure, four sounds good."

Flashing a smile she said, "great and thanks for the coffee," before running toward the door.

xx

Catherine and Nick were comparing slides when Sara stormed into the lab. Immediately Catherine extended her hand ready to collect her twenty bucks from Nick.

Swatting Catherine's hand away Nick crossed the lab to interrogate Sara. "So…"

Still steaming from Grissom's power play she snapped. "What?"

Catherine eagerly joined in. "That bad, huh? Well at least it was only coffee so you didn't have to be tortured for long."

"Mike was fine. The coffee was fine." She tossed her sunglasses on the desk. "We're seeing a movie tomorrow."

Grissom slowed in front of the doorway just long enough to bark, "Warrant's ready!"

Sara lunged for her sunglasses and without another word made a beeline for the door.

Rubbing his fingers together Nick waited for his cash.

Catherine reluctantly reached into her pocket producing the twenty. "You might want to use it to buy a scarf because the wind shifted and the cold front is moving in."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Back at the station Brass, Grissom and Sara made their way to the interrogation room.

Recalling Sara's temper at the crime scene the night before Brass cautioned, "Maybe you should stay behind the glass, Sara."

Stunned by his suggestion, she snapped. "No. I want in there!" Having already agreed to stay behind when the warrant was served she wasn't going to sit this out too. She needed to be the one who brought him down.

Grissom gave the Captain a reassuring look. "She'll be fine, Jim." And if she wasn't he'd be there to intervene as he had on several occasions.

Grateful for Grissom's support Sara softened. "Thank you." Suddenly her anger toward him from the earlier scene in the restaurant evaporated.

Brass, still unconvinced, opened the door and motioned for them to step inside.

Under the watchful eye of an armed guard, David Flynn, a young twenty-something with dirty blond hair and killer eyes, relaxed at the interrogation table as if he were sitting on a park bench. He looked like he should be on campus not under arrest for rape and murder. Alas, all the evidence pointed to the fact that he was a vile creature.

Sara and Grissom took seats at the end of the table, eyeing the suspect watchfully.

As usual, Brass, sitting on the edge of the table, took the lead. "Mr. Flynn, I've been waiting to talk to you." Flipping his notebook open he calmly asked, "Is there something you want to tell us about last night? Remember doing anything maybe around seven, eight o'clock? Think back. Take your time." It was really a formality since they had his DNA on the dead girl but a confession always made things quicker and he had to try.

Smirking, the young man, replied, "I had pizza for dinner."

Brass nodded. "Pepperoni or Sausage? No wait, I don't really care." In the hopes of shaking things up he tried a different route. "I do hope it was good pizza though because that's the last meal you'll ever eat as a free man." He motioned for Sara to take over. "And now for your entertainment, our folks from the crime lab want to give you a little biology lesson."

Grabbing her folder, Sara stood and crossed the room. This was her chance to deliver for the victim. Calmly she proceeded. "Mr. Flynn, I'm just curious, do you miss prison?"

Belligerently he eyed her. "Yeah, right."

Opening her file she held up the lab's DNA results. "Well then I guess you're just stupid because you left your DNA at the scene…all…over…the scene. With your priors you had to know we'd ID you. So why would you do that if you didn't want to go back to prison?"

Brass chimed in. "You want to tell us more about last night, yet?" Playing to the psycho's ego he prodded. "I mean I think we can guess what happened but wouldn't it be more fun for you if you told the story?"

Sara moved in closer. "Maybe I can fill in some more blanks to jog your memory."

Stepping next to Sara, Brass signaled for her to step back. Having done this same dance before, she knew the routine and let him take over, once again fading into the back of the room.

Grissom remained invisible just the way he liked it. Quietly in the corner of the room he continued his observations.

Pulling up a chair next to Flynn, Brass sat down and reworked his tactic. "You want to tell us her name because I'm sure someone out there is worried about her." Staring Flynn down Brass pressed on, "Come on…make it the one decent thing you did in your sorry life. You tell me her name and maybe I can do something for you."

Flynn cocked his head and casually replied, "Her name was Brianna that's all I know. Well that and I didn't kill her."

A tiny gasp escaped Sara's lips. A name…they had a name and she knew Brass was going to get more. She could feel it. DNA evidence was always compelling but when it was wrapped with a confession or almost confession it was invincible.

"Sure you didn't kill her." Brass feigned empathy. "You just had sex with her, right? Consensual sex of course and then you left and whoa…she ends up strangled. The scientists show up and find only your DNA and aw shucks, everyone thinks you killed the girl. It's not fair. We hear that story a lot." With a crafty smile Brass leaned into the conversation, "you want to tell me about her. How you scored? I'm an old single guy; I need to learn some new tricks. I bet you're great with the ladies."

Puffing out his chest Flynn boasted as if he were talking about reeling in a prize bass. "Man was she ripe for the picking. You know the type…so needy they'll believe anything you tell them as long as you make it seem like you care. This chick…I was watching her and listening to her talk with her friends. She was carrying on about some guy…some stupid-ass football player who hadn't asked her to a party. Her friends were telling her to forget about him that she's been following him around like a puppy for years and it was about time she gave up." He paused to enjoy a hearty laugh. "I guess that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear because she blew up at her friends, throwing her iced tea on them and bolting out the door." Looking over at Sara he flippantly asked, "You ever been there baby?" He eyed her like prey.

Stunned by the unexpected question and the uninvited stare, Sara fell speechless.

Without missing a beat Grissom redirected. "Did you follow Brianna out the door?" He knew the scum would start talking about his conquest again if prodded.

On a dime Flynn turned his attention to Grissom. "Hell, yeah." A sleazy smirk took over his lips. "Like I said…ripe for the picking. By the time I got outside she was already crying and storming down the street." He shook with laughter. "I had a napkin ready to wipe her tears away. I learned that trick from watching soaps with my grandma. That napkin, a few sweet words and she was into me."

Recovered, Sara found her voice again. "If she was so willing to be with you then why drug her? And before you deny it we have your prints on a vial of GHB, the same GHB that was found in Brianna."

Her blood boiling, Sara leaned over the table. "You bought her an Icee with a twist of GHB." Sara tossed her file on the table. "The autopsy report indicates it was the last thing she ate and we have surveillance video from the convenience store around the corner from The Flying Aces that shows you pouring the GHB into her cup." Staring him down she waited for his reply.

Flynn licked his lips. "Yeah I bought her an Icee…cherry…just like her." He could tell he was getting to his questioner and relished it. "You may have me on tape but what you don't know is that Brianna asked me to give her something. Like I said earlier she was real upset. She was looking to calm down and I gave her just what she needed. She asked for the drug and she didn't say no to the sex."

Sara's anger mounted as she dug her fingers into the table. "She didn't say**_ no_** to the sex because she was **_unconcious_**! What, her innocence wasn't enough for you? You had to take her life? Was she waking up and you were afraid she would fight back?" Swallowing hard she pressed on. "I think she got out one scream and that's when you started choking her. The impressions around her throat will match your hands. I can…"

Brass extended his arm to guide Sara away from the table. "Is that what happened, Flynn?" He steadied his gaze. "Cause I think that's what happened."

Arrogantly Flynn bore his eyes down on Sara. "Who cares what happened? She was just another desperate chick who didn't matter to anyone. This time next week no one will even remember her name. Hell I was the only one who gave her any attention." Smugly he added, "If Brianna were alive I bet she'd thank me."

Understanding why it's a good idea that she be unarmed in the interrogation room, Sara raged. "First you're going to rot in prison and then you're going to rot in**_ hell_** you sick bastard!"

"Get him out of here!" Brass snapped for the guard and pulled the suspect from his chair. "Sara…do me a favor and do that breathing thing that worked last night." Flashing a critical glance toward Grissom he said, "I know, I know…everything is fine." Grumbling he left the room.

Like a caged lioness Sara paced the floor. 10-9-8…

Grissom tracked her with his gaze. "You did great up until that last outburst. I was right there with you though. I'd guess my pulse was well over ninety-five."

3-2-1 "Yeah, I could tell by the way you were sitting there quietly." Rolling her eyes she continued her walk around the room. It must be so easy to be him and be in complete control all the time; to never act on intense feelings…or _any_ feelings. Lately she was a roller coaster of emotion and she wore it on her sleeve. What was going on? She had discussed burnout with her P.E.A.P Counselor but knew this was something different.

As a supervisor, Grissom made the appropriate offer. "You want to take a couple of days off?" He always made the suggestion, never once did she say yes. After all, Sara held the department record for overtime; she maxed out monthly and more often than not she worked through her scheduled days off.

"Yes. I'll take some time off." Stunned at her own answer, she froze, staring at her blurry reflection in the two-way glass.

"Um…okay." Gathering his scattered thoughts Grissom struggled for the right reply. Her back still to him he rose to his feet and walked over to her. "Sara…" But before he could get out his words, she spoke.

"I'll take a couple of days and I'm sure I'll pull it together." Sighing she stuffed her hands in her pockets and said, "I have a date with Mike tomorrow night maybe that will help take my mind off things here." It wasn't an accidental slip, she chose to tell him about the date but then she was too much of a coward to check if her words had impact.

A punch in the gut wouldn't have thrown Grissom more. "Uh…" Not wanting her to see his emotional reaction he headed back to the interrogation table to pick up his folder and forced a business tone. "Don't forget to fill out a paid leave form before you go. I don't need any flack about procedure from Ecklie."

Just as she suspected, Grissom was unmoved by the knowledge of her impending date. "I'll do the paperwork right now." Without looking back she left the room.

Alone, Grissom sank into the nearest chair. He knew it was for the best and yet he still couldn't accept it. She needed a life and he couldn't…no…_wouldn't_ give her one. Staring at the wall he realized, it was during Dr. Lurie's interrogation in this very room nine months ago; that he first admitted it wasn't possible to pursue a relationship with Sara. He hadn't used her name but Brass knew who he was talking about. Sara, however privy she should be, knew nothing of the decision.

But now, sitting here in the same chair nine months later reeling from the revelation that Sara had a new man in her life, he questioned the decision, or rather, he questioned whether he had ever really made one. For if he made a decision, why was it so disappointing that she was moving on without him?

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**9/20/04**

Upon entering the break room Catherine was drawn to the cheerful vase of colorful blossoms brightening the usually drab room. Printed clearly in red ink, the envelope read,_ "To Sara Sidle"._ A smile crested on her face. So Grissom had finally wised up and this time without her prodding. Maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder she pondered as she focused on the sweet scent of the flowers. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Warrick, Nick and Grissom walk in for the requisite pre-shift coffee.

"Did you forget to tell us you have a new man in your life?" Warrick curiously inquired as he reached for the coffee pot.

Grinning, Catherine sauntered toward him. "Haven't you learned anything after all these years?" Never assume." With a lingering glance she clarified. "The flowers aren't mine and I'm still unattached." She could tell he was wondering if that last bit of information was a veiled invitation, which is exactly how she meant it.

Peeling his eyes off Catherine, Warrick resumed his line of questioning. "So who is the lucky lady getting flowers tonight?"

Turning toward Grissom ready to enjoy his reaction she answered, "Sara."

When he heard Sara's name Grissom lowered his coffee cup and met Catherine's anticipatory gaze with a distraught stare.

Catherine's excitement morphed into horror. It never dawned on her that the flowers would be from anyone else besides Grissom and now the poor guy was standing there shocked. Before she could shoo the guys from the room it was too late.

"Hey there." Sara strutted into the break room looking as fresh as the flowers in the center of the room. "Nice flowers, Catherine." She wondered which club mogul Catherine had wowed this time.

Plucking the card from the bouquet Warrick passed it to Sara. "They're not hers, they're yours and we're all dying to know who they're from." What he really meant was he couldn't wait to hear they were from Grissom so the whole _relationship that we don't acknowledge because they don't acknowledge it_ would finally be out in the open.

"Mine?" Holding the card Sara flooded with anticipation. Grissom was trying to make things right and this time it wasn't a stately plant, it was flowers…romantic flowers. Figuring he must have realized how much he missed her when she was gone for a couple of days she cursed herself for not taking time off sooner.

Anxiously she pulled the card from its dainty envelope and silently read the sentiment. _"I wanted to brighten up your first day back at the office. Dinner tomorrow? I hope you say yes, Mike. 555-8942"_ Her heart sank and her flat tone spoke volumes. "They're from Mike." Forcing her eyes off the card she lifted them to Grissom who immediately averted her stare.

Gulping his coffee down, Warrick, knew he definitely missed a meeting. "Who the hell is Mike?"

Catherine was all too ready to answer. "A cop Nick set up with Sara when they were working a case over at The Flying Aces." Inwardly she grinned…now the boss would know exactly where to direct his frustration.

Snapping out of his daze, Grissom pulled the night's assignments from his jacket pocket. "Okay it's going to be a busy night. Warrick, Catherine and Sara, you'll be with me at The Trop working a suspected homicide."

Warrick tossed his coffee cup and headed for the door. "I just have to check with DNA and I'll meet you downstairs."

Glaring at Nick, Grissom broke the good news. "Nick, you're going to Tichino's Italian Restaurant. One of their patrons keeled over in his soup after vomiting profusely. His wife insists he was poisoned by the cook." As he hit the doorway he yelled back. "And make sure you get ALL stomach contents. I want every ounce of vomit analyzed."

Leaning over Nick whispered in Catherine's ear. "You sold me out."

"I stated a fact." Faking a sympathetic tone she patted him on the back as she scooted him out the door. "At least the guy died during soup instead of making it all the way through dessert. Have fun." Then she turned her attention to Sara who was still staring at the card as if she was waiting for a different message to appear. "So…I take it the date went well."

"Huh? Oh…yeah the date was fine." Faking a smile she continued. "It was nice. We caught a movie, had some pasta afterwards. Turns out Mike's a vegetarian too."

Despite the fact that Sara would have sounded more enthusiastic talking about blood spatter patterns than her date, Catherine spun a sunny reply. "So you have things in common…you both like movies and hate meat. That's a good start." Checking her watch she headed for the door. "I'll see you downstairs."

"Right." Sighing, Sara's mind drifted back to the date.

_Walking through the parking lot Mike asked, "how about Italian? I'm a vegetarian so I…"_

"_Me too." Sara cheerily announced. The night was turning out better than she anticipated. Of course she had anticipated to hate every minute of it. _

"_Really, you're a vegetarian too? That's great." A smile erupted on his face. "What made you decide to give up meat?" _

"_Staying up all night watching the infestation of dead pig." Instantly she was transported back to the night and she fondly recalled other aspects of her time on the case with Grissom. How tirelessly he worked to bring Kay Shelton some justice. How he smiled at her when she unexpectedly joined him with hot coffee and a warm blanket… _

"_Sara?" Mike tapped her on the shoulder. "Where did you go just now?" _

"_Sorry." Shaking her head she explained. "I was thinking about the case with the pig." _

"_Oh you watched the pig for a work assignment." Chuckling he leaned against the car. "I was a little worried you did it for fun." _

_Like a kid describing her Christmas morning experience, Sara explained, "when a person dies and their remains are exposed it's only a matter of time before the bugs show up. They show up in a specific order and by analyzing the eggs, larvae and pupae of the various insects found on the corpse you can determine time of death. It's amazing how many different insects show up, you can find leiodidae, lucanidae…" Catching the dazed expression on Mike's face Sara abruptly ended her story. "Sorry, I really shouldn't talk about decaying corpses on our date." _

"_Just not over dinner, okay?" Laughing, Mike opened the car door. "I guess I should confess that I barely passed biology in High School so you'll lose me if you get all scientific. I bet you did real well in school though. Where did you go to college?" _

_No sense in hiding it. "Oh...umm…Harvard for undergrad and grad school at Berkeley." Getting into the car she knew that Mike was a really nice guy, he just wasn't the guy for her. She wasn't a snob, she was a realist. As much as she needed a man to keep her warm at night she needed one who could discuss Newtonian Kinematics with verve. _

Standing over her flowers Sara released a heavy sigh. The flowers were pretty and they were the first flowers she had received since…good grief had it really been a decade?

So Mike couldn't talk quantum theory. Like Catherine said, they had other things in common and as time went on they would probably find more to share. As for Grissom, he didn't even bat an eye over the flowers. Yes, as hard as it was, it was definitely time to move on.

Opening her cell phone she slowly punched in the phone number written on the card. "Hi, Mike, it's Sara." His enthusiastic voice made her smile. "Yes, they're beautiful, thank you. Dinner tomorrow sounds great…"

* * *

At the Tropicana, Grissom, Catherine and Sara stepped aside while the Coroner wheeled out the victim then promptly returned to the hotel room to resume their work. Snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, Grissom was all business. "Catherine, you start on the floor, Sara take the bed." Not wasting any time he stepped toward the bathroom. "I'll be in here." 

Kneeling down next to her kit, Catherine grumbled, we've only been here a couple of hours but it feels like twelve."

"I was thinking twenty-four," Sara retorted as she readied the ALS for a protein hunt. "And I was so relaxed when arrived for shift."

"I noticed that." Catherine looked up from the carpet grinning. "I was going to ask you if you took my advice."

Shyly she confessed her secret as she searched the bedding. "I did and you were right, there's something about getting naked and letting someone take control over your body that's very freeing." Embarrassed she giggled. "I'll be honest, I wasn't into it for the first fifteen minutes but once I got over my inhibition…I couldn't get enough. Catherine…I couldn't believe how good he was at it…so strong."

"I told you!" Catherine reached in her kit for her tweezers. "Now aren't you sorry you didn't do it sooner?"

"Absolutely!" As she chuckled, her ALS illuminated a splatter pattern on the underside of the top sheet. "Oh …I think we're looking at another death-by-pay-per-view."

"Really?" Rising to her feet she sighed. "When are these geezers from Topeka going to learn you can OD on porn?"

Clicking off her ALS Sara reached for a bag. "Damn, I'm out of large bags. Let me run out and get some." Pulling off her gloves she headed for the door.

Catherine was about to resume her floor inspection when she saw Grissom peering out from the bathroom. "Find any heart medication in there?"

She theorized that the vic might have had a heart condition and he was heading for his meds when he keeled over and cracked his head open on the nightstand. "Grissom?" Stepping towards him she noticed his pale complexion. "What the hell did you find in there?"

Then it dawned on her…he had overhead the conversation with Sara. "Oh you think…" Amusement danced in her eyes as she tried not to laugh. "You think we were talking about sex. No, no, we were talking about a massage." Shaking her head she leaned against the wall. "I've been recommending for years that Sara go to my massage guy and she's always been too repressed and germphobic. Yesterday she was finally able to work up the nerve."

His voice cracking, he groveled. "Oh….well…uh it wasn't any of my business but I was five feet away so I couldn't help but…"

Feeling mischievous she thought she'd try to push him out of his comfort zone. She had tried on other occasions and had a modicum of success, so why not? Matter-of-factly she announced, "Sara didn't have sex with Mike." Grissom's reaction was more priceless than she imagined it would be.

Stunned she was speaking so candidly he stammered. "I…I never asked..."

Unrelenting she continued to throw him off balance. "But you were wondering."

Vexed by the concept that Sara and Catherine were closer than he had assumed, he questioned her, "The two of you…you talk about this stuff…"

"No." Catherine shook her head. "No, Sara and I have never talked about relationships, or guys, or sex…and definitely not you."

Thoroughly confused, Grissom cautiously checked over his shoulder before working up the nerve to ask the burning question. "Then how do you know that Sara…"

"Because if they had slept together the flowers would have been red roses instead of a mixed bouquet." Amused by his curiosity, she continued her sociology lesson. "Players know better than to send a girl a mixed message after the loving. And to further support my theory, the fact that Sara didn't know the flowers were from Mike until she opened the card means absolutely nothing happened on the date. If she had slept with him or even gotten remotely intimate with him, she would have assumed the flowers were from him. I doubt the guy even get a kiss on the doorstep."

Staring at Catherine, Grissom probed. "Don't you think it's a little strange that he sent her flowers so quickly?"

Choking on her reply she shrieked, "Not every man waits four years to make a move." Her eyes remained fixed on the flustered man in front of her. "May I be frank?"

With a flushed face he replied, "More than you already have been?" He steadied himself on the opposite wall. Any more honesty and he'd be the second guy in this room tonight to die from an accelerated heart rate.

"Friend to friend?" Catherine waited for him to acknowledge her request.

After a moment of consideration, curiosity got the best of him and he nodded. "Go ahead."

"I saw how devastated you were when you found out Sara's flowers were from Mike. Hell, I've seen how you felt about her for years." She saw him flinch from the realization that his emotions were so obvious. "If you feel that strongly about her then what are you waiting for, do something…anything. Why are you willing to sit back and let this guy get what you want?"

Plagued by his inadequacies he bristled. "It's complicated, Catherine. Besides, I'm not going to compete for…"

"Compete?" Tossing her hands in the air, Catherine let her frustration show. "You really don't get it, do you?" Judging from his lost expression she knew the answer was no. "You don't have any competition. You never had any competition. Do you think flower-guy would stand a chance if you threw your hat in the ring?" Softening she lowered her voice to a supportive whisper. "Gil, I've watched you pick up on a single fiber from twenty yards away but this situation…everything you need to know is right in front of you and you can't see it. Open your eyes before it's too late." Sensing he was at maximum capacity she backed off. "I…I'm going outside to grab some air."

Standing in the empty room still reeling from Catherine's candidness, Grissom was not ready for Sara's return. Regardless, a minute later she walked through the door with a pack of evidence bags.

"Find anything in the bathroom?" Sara casually asked as she returned to the bed to bag the sheets.

"Umm…" Watching her he thought back to well over a year ago when Sara had boldly asked him out and he insensitively shot her down. Recalling her final statement that evening he let the words echo in his head…_by the time you figure it out it really could be too late._ Although he wasn't willing to go forward he didn't like the idea of being left behind. His voice shook. "I'm still trying to figure it out, Sara."

Puzzled, she stopped bagging the sheets and turned around. "That's unlike you. We've only been here a few hours and the evidence isn't even processed yet. You never decide what happened until you've seen all the evidence. Why the change this time?" Searching his eyes she couldn't believe how emotional they appeared. "Grissom?"

"I'm talking about…" His heartfelt confession was interrupted by her cell phone.

"Ah, this is probably Trace." Opening her phone she answered, "Sidle."

It wasn't Trace, it was Mike. "Oh…hi." Silently she cursed herself for answering. "I'm on the scene."

Holding up her index finger she asked Grissom to hold his thought then proceeded to cross the room for a little privacy. "Thanks for thinking to ask before you made the reservation. Yes, that time works for me. See you then. Bye." Closing her phone, she turned around. "Okay, so you were going to tell me how you…" Her eyes scanned the room. Where was he? "Grissom?" She checked the bathroom and it was empty as well. "Hmm." Heading back to the bed she mumbled, "I guess he had second thoughts on his hypothesis."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Exhausted, Sara pushed through the last minutes of her sixteen hour day. Her unexpected days off had put her behind schedule and she was working non-stop to catch up. Normally she'd pull a full double; but she had agreed to go out with Mike tonight and he already made reservations.

Putting the finishing touches on the Brianna Ellers report she breathed a heavy sigh. The case was airtight and David Flynn would, as she predicted, rot in jail before rotting in hell. Forgetting the time, she decided to methodically review the report once again before taking it to Grissom for sign-off.

It was six fifteen when Mike appeared in the doorway of the lab and lightly rapped. Happy to finally find her, he smiled sweetly. "Sara…aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?"

When she heard his voice she jumped off her stool. "I am **_so_** sorry!" Checking the clock she realized she was supposed to meet him downstairs fifteen minutes ago. There he was, nicely outfitted in stylish dress clothes with a black leather jacket draped over his arm, while she wore a grungy lab coat over the rank outfit she had been wearing for almost a day. "I'm not even dressed yet and I have to get this report in!" Tearing off her lab coat she grabbed the Brianna Ellers report. "Can you wait here while I run this over to Grissom?"

"Sure." When she walked through the door he winked. "By the way, you looked real cute in the lab coat."

Uncomfortable with the flirtatious comment she shyly averted her eyes. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll be right back." Walking down the hall she felt pangs of doubt about the evening. Dating was exhausting…being witty, making small talk, handling awkward moments and worst of all, avoiding the dreaded silent periods. After a double, the last thing she wanted to be was witty. All she wanted to do after a shift like this is crawl into the arms of someone who knew who already understood her, the job and the need for comforting silence.

Coming from behind, Grissom asked, "Sara, are you looking for me?" Without waiting for an answer he hurried into his office. He had managed to avoid her for the majority of the day but apparently time was up.

"Yes, I was coming to see you." Holding out her folder she explained in a tired voice, "I finished my report on the Brianna Ellers case."

"Great." Taking the folder he immediately sifted through it. "Take a seat."

As much as the invitation appealed to her she couldn't oblige. "Oh…ummm…I'm off the clock and have to get going. I was just dropping that off." Slowly she backed out of the room. "Sorry, I would stay to discuss it if I weren't already late. Mike is waiting for me in the lab as we speak."

Irritated that the enemy was on his turf, Grissom rose to cross the room. "He shouldn't be in there, Sara. You know better; only authorized personnel."

Surprised by his comments she retorted, "He's LVPD."

Annoyance dominated his tone. "He's not part of the Crime Lab."

She stiffened from his glare. "Fine, I'll tell him to leave right now." Hurrying down the hall she knew Grissom was following her. "Really I can handle this.

Upon seeing Sara return, Mike raced to the door. "Ready?"

Before Sara could get a word out Grissom barked like a territorial dog. "From now on you stay out of the lab. No unauthorized personnel. I don't want the integrity of my lab breeched."

Unaffected by Grissom's chilly demeanor, Mike replied. "Sure, no sweat. I should have known better." Glancing over at Sara, he explained, "I only came up because Sara was late and I was worried about her. Won't happen again."

The response unnerved Grissom on many levels.

Sara too was perplexed. Did Mike just say he was worried about her when she was late? When was the last time anyone had said they were worried when she didn't show up? When was the last time anyone was waiting for her? "Umm…we should really get going."

Grissom, still bewildered, entered the empty lab managing to eek out a polite, "good night."

Heading down the hall Mike shook his head. "How do you work for that guy, Sara? He's always walking around like someone peed in his cheerios?"

Defending him she explained, "He was right; I shouldn't have let you in there. Grissom is just looking out for the lab. The lab is his life." Looking over her shoulder she walked down the hall, watching the distance grow between her and the lab.

* * *

Catherine, anxious to get home to Lindsay, hurried into the lab with the last of her samples. "Hey, Grissom," she greeted as she lay her report on the table.

Looking up from his Sara's report, he checked his watch. "It's almost seven, what are you still doing here?" After an incident with Lindsay at school last week, Catherine had mentioned needing to be home more in the evening.

"I know I should have been out of here hours ago but there aren't enough hours in the day to stay on top of things here." Mentally and physically spent, she plopped down in the nearest chair. "Who left their…" Reaching under her she pulled out a black leather jacket. "Is this yours?"

"No." Grissom studied the jacket for a moment and then with a high level of irritation in his voice said, "It must be his."

"His?" Catherine paused then remembered seeing Mike earlier in the hall wearing the same type of jacket. "He was in the lab?"

Rolling his eyes, Grissom snipped, "yeah."

Catherine fell silent. The fact that Grissom was annoyed and Sara was out on date could only mean one thing; even after her heartfelt wake-up call to Grissom he hadn't mustered the fortitude to say anything to Sara.

Sitting down next to his co-worker, Grissom prodded her for information. "What do you know about this guy, Catherine?"

Shrugging her shoulders she answered honestly. "Not much…I met him for two minutes the other day, the rest is just hearsay. He transferred from Dallas after losing his wife to breast cancer. He likes movies and is a vegetarian and oh yeah…he can out chest-press Nick at the gym." That last detail had really stuck with her. "Nick says he's a great guy looking for a fresh start." Catherine watched Grissom process the information. "Sorry, I know you were hoping to hear he's an ass."

Ready to end the discussion, Grissom stood. "Why don't you take that jacket and put it in the locker room on your way out."

"As soon as I finish this…"

"Now!" Looking at her he softened. "Catherine, you need to get home. Lindsay is twelve and she needs to see her mother tonight. Don't live your life in this lab when you have one waiting for you elsewhere."

"You're right. I should be home already." With the jacket under her arm, she headed for the door. "Good night."

As Grissom returned to the report he somberly reciprocated, "Good night."

* * *

When she walked into the locker room Catherine was pleasantly surprised to catch a glimpse of Warrick pulling a black silk shirt over his deliciously sculpted back. "Hey," She announced as she moved further into the room, eager to see him slowly button up the front of the shirt. It was a simple pleasure but these days…these lonely days…she'd settle for what she could get even if it was a cheap thrill on the sly.

"Hey." Checking her eyes Warrick knew Catherine was watching him button his shirt. It wasn't the first time he noticed her lack of subtlety, not that he minded. On the contrary, he enjoyed it and looked forward to the day when the roles would reverse with him being the watcher and she being the watchee. Although in his fantasy, instead of her buttoning her shirt she'd be unbuttoning. Unfortunately things didn't work that way in the locker room…women always changed their shirts in the bathroom stall.

The last button complete, Catherine sadly turned and hung Mike's jacket in Sara's locker.

"I think you have the wrong locker," Warrick remarked. "That jacket looks a little big for Sara."

"It's not Sara's." Closing the locker Catherine leaned against it. "Belongs to her date."

"Mystery man Mike."

"Uh huh." Sighing, Catherine folded her arms across her chest. "Who would have thought the night would come when Sara had a date and I didn't."

Certain he could remedy the injustice of the situation, Warrick moved closer but Catherine's cell phone interrupted the opportunity.

"It's Lindsay." Putting the phone to her ear, Catherine said, "What is it, Honey?...No, I didn't forget. I'm on my way home right now and we'll go shopping and grab a bite to eat….yes, I promise to buy the jeans you want even if they are expensive…okay." Before Catherine could say goodbye Lindsay ended the call.

Smiling, Warrick relaxed against the lockers. "And you said you didn't have a date."

Returning the affectionate grin, she mused, "This date takes all my money and doesn't kiss me goodnight anymore." Laughing to hide her frustration, she said, "Sounds a lot like Eddie, doesn't she? I'm starting to fear the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

"She's not Eddie, she's just twelve."

"Well that explains it…Eddie acted twelve until the day he died." Shaking her head, Catherine's voice cracked. "The thing is…I'm not good with twelve…and what the hell am I going to do when she's a teenager? I couldn't handle myself as a teen, how am I going to parent one? I wasn't at home to be parented when I was growing up so I don't have any first-hand experience. I buy books…I Tivo Dr. Phil…nothing helps. I don't know what I'm doing."

Warrick soothed, "You're doing the best you can."

"Am I?" Finding comfort in his supportive tone, Catherine relaxed. As much as she desired every inch of the man in front of her, at times like these, she valued his friendship even more. "Warrick…" The ring of her cell phone pulled her attention away. Glancing at the caller ID she nodded. "It's Lindsay again. I've got to go." Grabbing her purse and keys she hurried out. "Thanks for listening. Good night."

"Night." It was hard standing by watching her struggle. Deep down he knew Catherine's heart was in the right place but she was lost when it came to parenting her daughter. Lindsay was on the road to rebellion and no amount of designer jeans was going to throw her off track. No, it was going to take more than money to turn Lindsay around.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Sara groggily reached for the ringing phone, cursing it while wondering what time it was. Rubbing her eyes she saw the digital display on her clock read 7:32 a.m. With a scratchy voice, she finally answered, "hello…"

It was Grissom on the phone about the Brianna Ellers report. Fighting for consciousness she tried to figure out what he was saying. "What data? Oh, okay. No, I'm not busy; I can be there right away. I just need to grab a shower. Bye." She wasn't expected in the office for another twelve hours. To continue catching up on her work she had intended to go in early but not this early. "I need coffee."

Shuffling towards the bathroom she wondered why Grissom had called her home phone instead of paging her like he normally would. Minutes later, when the warm water of the shower rained down on weary head the obvious answer emerged…he was checking to see if she was home and not otherwise occupied. A little jealousy perhaps?

Shaking her head under the stream of water she silently lectured herself. _This is not healthy…well it hasn't been healthy for a long time but now that you're seeing Mike this is definitely NOT healthy_.

Lathering her head with conditioning shampoo she listened to the voice of reason in her head. _You have no business going out on dates with Mike when you are still focused on Grissom. It's not fair to Mike; he's a really nice guy. Last night you knew he wanted to kiss you and you went out of your way to avoid it. I know you SAY you're moving on but really who are you kidding? You know what your counselor would say about this…the same thing he said about the OTHER issue from your past. _

In an attempt to drown her inner voice, Sara ducked her head under the showerhead and rinsed. It didn't work. _Your counselor said you can't achieve closure and move on until you have confronted your past. You're avoiding…you're always avoiding and when you're not avoiding, you're hiding. _

Reaching for a towel she caught her reflection in the mirror and yelled, "Okay, I get it! Closure is needed!"

The ring of her cell phone thankfully ended the tortuous self analysis.

Checking the clock as she tracked the direction of the ring, noting only ten minutes had passed since Grissom's call. Flipping open the phone she didn't check the incoming ID. "I'm not in the car yet. I'm still getting dressed."

When she heard Mike's voice she was surprised. "Oh sorry…I thought you were…the office." Holding the phone in the crook of her neck she listened as she opened the closet door to grab some clothes. "No, I remember. I'm going into the office right now and I'll grab your jacket and put it in the locker room. I should be there in about twenty minutes." Feeling guilty over the previous evening she added, "Thanks again for last night. Okay…see you soon."

Closing the phone she released a heavy sigh but before she could collect her thoughts the phone rang again. This time she checked the ID and a smile perked the corners of her mouth before she answered. "I'm not in the car yet. I'm still getting dressed."

* * *

Sara had only been in the locker room for a few seconds when in popped Mike popped. "Is the coast clear? I don't want the mad scientist blasting me again." 

Chuckling she grabbed the jacket. "Yes." As she was about to toss it, Mike lunged to grab it.

"Sorry, I have my sunglasses in there and I didn't want them to fall out." Clutching the jacket he cleared his throat. "So you want to do something this weekend? I'd really like to get out of the city and grab some fresh air. Maybe a hike?"

"Umm…" Remembering the lecture she had just received from her guilty conscience, Sara declined. "I have some things to take care of around here. I'm going to have to pull some doubles and won't have much free time for a while…" Noticing his disappointment she qualified her statement. "But a hike does sound like a lot of fun. Maybe some other time when I have things cleared up."

Disappointed in her answer, Mike forced a smiled. "Hey I completely understand." Sensing he was overstaying, he backed out of the room. "You take of business and call me if you get some free time."

"Thanks." A grateful smile eased over her lips. "I will."

* * *

Coffee in hand, Sara walked down the hall to Grissom's office. 

Standing in the doorway she was surprised to see he wasn't there. "Hmm…"

Greg turned the corner just in time to catch Sara walking away from Grissom's door. "He went home."

Confused, she stated, "he just called me at home to come in and talk about the Brianna Ellers report."

"I know, he told me to give you this. We were working on the Lopez case all night and he needed to catch some z's." Handing her the file he smiled. "If you need any help, I'm young and energetic and would be happy to assist."

Patting him on the shoulder, Sara declined. "I'll be fine but I know where to find you if I need you."

Walking away she unfolded the note clipped to the front of the file. _Page 7 – decimal point threw off all the calculations– not like you – fix and return. I checked everything back into evidence for you. Surprised you left it out - not like you. Grissom. _

Rapidly she flipped to page 7. "Damn." It was the first report he had ever kicked back. Studying her figures she groaned…sure enough, her decimal was off one place and the entire page had to be redone. Imperfection was not something she tolerated from herself. Imperfection in front of Grissom was unbearable. Her face buried in the file, she hurried to her desk.

* * *

Her watch read six p.m. when Sara rang the doorbell to Grissom's townhouse. She had been here a few times but never alone and never uninvited. Grissom, like her, wasn't the spontaneous type and she knew her unexpected visit would be a challenge for both of them. Feeling like a fool but determined to stay the course, she impatiently waited. 

In her trembling hand she cradled a beetle in a specimen jar, thinking to herself, has there ever been a stranger line than _hey, I wanted to show you this beetle?_ Nevertheless she was here, the doorbell had been rung and she was hell bent on staying until she asked her question and he gave her once and for all a definitive answer.

Mike's earlier suggestion to go hiking had appealed to her so much that as soon as she corrected the Ellers report she left the office, stopping home for a quick change of clothes and making a beeline for the city limits. Of course since the purpose of the hike was to clear her head, she went alone. Not that a couple of hours of deep thought in the great outdoors could possible help her fix **_all_** her problems but maybe, just maybe, she thought it might give her some insight.

During her hike when a strange beetle crossed her path and her mind flooded with thoughts of Grissom, she knew, once and for all, something had to be done to resolve the situation. The beetle was clearly a sign! Yes, she could end up looking pathetic…or more pathetic than she already did but as she learned in counseling, you can't achieve closure and move on until you have confronted your past. Of course she wasn't looking for closure; she was hoping for an opening.

After waiting for what seemed an eternity, the door slowly opened, revealing Grissom, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and an untucked crime lab t-shirt. From the stunned expression on his face she would have sworn he saw a pink elephant in the doorway instead of her.

"Sara?" He stared wordlessly.

Hoping to break the ice she began her rehearsed speech. "Hi…umm…I know this…I know you don't like people stopping by but…this couldn't wait and when I checked you weren't in the office so I had to come by…I would have called but my cell went dead and well…" Suddenly she froze. That was NOT the rehearsed speech and a wave of apprehension raced through her. "Is this a bad time? Should I go?" Cursing herself for breaking her promise not to leave until she asked her question and got her answer, she fidgeted on the doorstep.

Carefully considering her question he replied, "Uhhh…actually…I was just about to…" A mixture of curiosity and trepidation got the better of him until he undiplomatically inquired, "Why are you here?"

Questioning her sanity, her voice filled with doubt. "Right. Why am I here?" Quickly she redirected. "I mean…I am here because I wanted to show you this beetle." Extending the specimen jar she displayed her catch. "I never saw one like it before and wondered if you had? It crawled on me and I wanted to make sure it wasn't poisonous." After saying it aloud she was able to confirm that yes indeed, it was the dumbest line anyone had ever uttered.

Dropping his guard, Grissom reached out for the jar. "Cicindela nevadica." A smile emerged through his mask of insecurity. "A Tiger Beetle. Definitely not poisonous. There are millions of beetles in the world and very few are dangerous." Studying it a little closer his brow knitted. "Although it could be Cicindela nevadica lincolniana, an endangered Tiger Beetle subspecies, in which case…you just broke the law."

"Huh?"

Turning, he stepped back inside the hall. "I'll have to look it up to be sure."

"Uh…Grissom?" She shouted after him. "Am I supposed to follow you or should I just hang out here waiting to find out if I'm guilty of beetle-napping?"

"Oh…" Feeling as trapped as the beetle in the jar, he reluctantly replied, "of course, come in." Returning to the door he held the knob until she passed through then shut it behind her. Unaccustomed to guests and uncomfortable with this one in particular, he relied on formality to get him through. "Can I get you something to drink?" He motioned to follow him.

"Some ice water would be great, thanks." Glancing around the living room she noted that aside from the calendar page, nothing much had change since the last time she was here over a year ago.

After placing a glass on the kitchen counter he paused to catch a glimpse Sara standing in front of his wall of framed butterflies. It was odd enough to see her in his living room but having her dressed in khaki shorts and a fitted yellow tank shirt instead of a CSI gear made her appearance even more foreign.

Wistfully Sara remarked, "This one is my favorite."

Her statement snapped him out of his daze. "Which one?" At ease with this entomological line of questioning he felt a sense of calm wash over him.

"This one." She pointed to a velvet black butterfly with blue and red bands and purple patches on the wings. "I'm drawn to it."

Arriving at her side, he chuckled. "I'm not surprised that you're attracted to that one."

As he relaxed so did she. "What's so funny?"

Crossing the room to get a book, he explained, "That's Prepona Praeneste Praenestina and that particular one is male. The males have a scent producing apparatus on the hind wings, which produces a fragrance that drives females crazy."

Rolling her eyes, she groaned. "You made that up."

Handing her the thick text he raised his brow. "I knew you were going to say that so here is my source." When she took the book from his hands he returned to the kitchen and the captured beetle. "I hope you don't mind but I'm going to give your new, and maybe illegal, pet some meat. Unlike you, he's a carnivore and won't survive without it." Without waiting for permission he unscrewed the lid and dropped in a piece of roast beef.

Teasingly she said, "Well I don't want to be a beetle-napper AND a murderer so yes, please feed him." Settling in on the brown leather couch she cracked open the butterfly book, turning to the index.

After screwing the lid back on the specimen jar, Grissom looked up to see Sara curled up on the couch; her head buried in the book he had given her. He often wondered what it would be like to have her in his life and while he had plenty of **_un_**domesticated fantasies about her, this one, sharing a quiet evening together, was also high on his list.

Sighing, Sara looked up from the book. "Why do I even bother…you're always right about this stuff." Intrigued by the text she continued flipping pages.

Feeling compelled to join Sara on the couch, Grissom left the safety of the kitchen. "Look at this one." Sitting next to her, he gently slid the book so one half was resting on her leg and the other half on his.

His sudden proximity stoked her ever present attraction for him and she did her best to conceal her desires. Did he feel it too? Maybe she wouldn't even have to ask her question if things kept proceeding.

Flipping through the pages of the book Grissom stopped when he got to the Papillo Antimachus, a large golden, orange and yellow butterfly. "I have this one on order. It has a wingspan of six inches; between its size and its flashy colors it's a miracle it survives in the jungle."

Suddenly aware that their bodies were touching he struggled to finish his thought. "Uhh…some entomologists think this butterfly survives on its confidence alone…by flying through the jungle like it is…unafraid…it…" His speech ceased as he glanced into her inviting eyes and he knew the situation was perilous when his gaze gravitated toward her parted lips.

Sara's pulse pounded as his fingertips brushed over her cheek but then, without warning and much to her disappointment, she watched him retreat to the opposite end of the couch, taking the book with him. Her heart sank as her voice quavered. "Wh…what just happened?"

Dropping his head in his hands, he whispered. "This…this can't happen, Sara."

Stunned, she stumbled for words. "You can't tell me you didn't feel that."

Shaking his head he tried to explain. "Of course I did but that's not the issue. It's not about how we feel at this moment. Hell, if people acted on every impulse we'd be a lot busier at work." Is this why she was here? Was Mike unavailable tonight so she showed up on his doorstep?

Her head spinning from the sudden change in direction Sara fought to get her bearings. "Is that what this is to you? An impulse?" His choice of words cut her like a knife. "Do you think I'm being impulsive?"

"Sara…" His eyes closed as he looked for the right words. "If we start something what will we do when it ends?"

Trying to follow his logic, she asked, "Why are you so sure there would be an end?"

Sticking to his convictions he continued. "Our ages, our work situation, our lack of prior successful relationships…any one of these things can doom a couple. I've done the research."

Still reeling, Sara asked, "You've researched this?! Us?!" When had he intended to share his findings? "How can you research a relationship without talking to the other person?"

Retreating further into the safety of science, he replied, "There are plenty of studies out there to support what I'm saying. Trust me, I tried to find encouragement, there wasn't any out there. Any one of the factors I cited carries great odds…we'd be facing **_all_** the factors and the combination would be overwhelming." Letting his overarching concern slip he confessed his biggest fear. "You're young and beautiful…one day you'd have a change of heart and then…our friendship, our working relationship, our careers…"

Hollow, she murmured, "I can't believe this. You think…" Knowing he wanted a relationship but didn't trust her was far worse than thinking he hadn't wanted a relationship at all.

Trying to explain himself better, he turned towards her. "Sara, what I'm saying is I'd rather keep what we have than lose everything. When things end…they never end well." His voice weakened as he recited a quote. "Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends in a teardrop."

It was a natural reaction to ask him for the author. "Which pessimistic poet said that?"

"It's anonymous." Sighing he added, "I always figured the guy didn't want anyone to know a girl broke his heart."

Not desiring to wait around for the 'we can still be friends' speech, Sara, satisfied she had the answer to the question that had originally brought her here, abruptly headed for the door.

"Sara…wait." He followed her down the hall finally catching her at the door. For the first time since he had pulled away he saw the pain in her eyes and it jolted him.

Her voice wavering, she quietly asked, "Tell me something…" Stopping for a breath she fought back her tears. "If that quote is anonymous…why do you assume it was said by a man who had his heart broken? Did you ever stop to consider there may be another scenario?" She watched as her comment resonated with him and after a moment it became apparent that he had never contemplated the existence of another perspective.

Try as he might, no words came to him as he watched her struggle. Her reaction was so much deeper than he ever imagined, it rendered him confused and speechless.

Thinking back to Grissom's quote, Sara added her own observation. "You know…I remember the first smile…" She paused as she felt a hot tear slide down her cheek. "…but the funny thing is we've never shared a kiss but look…I'm still crying." Having reached her limit, she threw open the door and fled the scene.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Driving into work only hours after her emotional episode with Grissom, Sara dreaded walking through the door. Not showing up would make her irresponsible; something she prided herself on never being. Secondly, it would prove Grissom's point that personal relationships cause problems in the workplace and should be avoided. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

No, she'd walk in with her head held high and ignore the fact that only hours ago he characterized her as an impulsive girl incapable of sustaining a lasting relationship. One who, without a doubt, would eventually dump him for somebody better. After all this time, after years of working side by side, it pained her to believe he thought she was nothing more than another Debbie Marlin. How he came to the conclusion was beyond Sara's comprehension. Looks aside, she had more in common with the nuns at St. Mary's than Debbie.

Parking her car she readied herself for the awkwardness that would surely follow. Everything will be fine, she reassured herself. This was part of the closure process and soon…well maybe not that soon but eventually…she would move past her discomfort like she had done in the past. It was good the cards were on the table. Now she could move on not only in theory, but in reality.

Walking into the building a tight knot formed in her stomach. It was much easier to downplay anxiety in the safety of the car. Only steps away from the locker room she heard her name.

"Sara!" Catherine hurried over. "We just got a call…DB in the pool at the Lucky 7. I want you and Nick to head out there right away. Warrick and I are on our way to a double homicide on Buena Puente…gang related."

Confused, Sara asked, "Wait…why are you giving the assignments?"

"Grissom called in to say he had to prep for an Entomology presentation in Seattle." Shrugging her shoulders she explained. "Something about dipterous maggots as toxicological indicators? Anyway whoever else was supposed to do it had a conflict and they tapped Grissom to cover so they wouldn't have to disappoint all the bug freaks. He left me in charge."

Not expecting this turn, Sara felt a tidal wave of relief. Thank goodness for bug freak conventions. "Oh…okay. That works for me. I'll find Nick and get going."

* * *

Holed up in his townhome for over a day, Grissom decided he had to leave…maybe take a drive and clear his head. He needed to pull it together because the Entomology seminar excuse would only buy him three days.

Once behind the wheel he realized that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. The day had been spent replaying the scene with Sara, wondering how it could have been handled differently. Now however, deep pangs of hunger forced him to focus on another matter. Turning the car into the parking lot of Windy City Dogs he was stunned to see none other than Officer Mike Rodgers sitting at one of the outdoor tables stuffing a chili dog in his mouth.

Hadn't Catherine said he was a vegetarian? Parking his car off to the side he'd wait until the supposed meat-avoider left.

As soon as Rodgers was gone, Grissom got out of his car and proceeded to the walk-up order window. "Just curious…do you have any vegetarian hot dogs?"

The greasy counter guy released a hearty laugh. "Are you freakin' kiddin' me?" Holding up a foot long, he said, "who the hell knows what's really in these puppies but there's meat parts for sure. Nothin' good probably…maybe some snouts and eyeballs."

Nodding, Grissom. "That's what I thought." Pointing to the recently vacated table, he continued questioning. "That guy who was sitting there just a minute ago..."

"Mike."

Surprised to hear the guy say the name, Grissom narrowed his gaze. "Yeah, is he a regular?"

Without hesitation the counter guy answered, "Foot long chili dog at least three times a week, no onions."

"Thank you for your time." Grissom quickly headed for his car.

"Hey, aren't you gonna order somethin'?"

"No, thanks." Grissom shook his head. "I lost my appetite." And it wasn't just the questionable contents of the hot dogs that made his stomach flip.

* * *

On her way home from shift, Catherine, as asked, showed up at Grissom's door carrying a cardboard box marked _maggot_s. Only seconds after ringing the bell, the door opened and Grissom whisked her inside.

Chuckling she asked, "Miss your maggots that much, huh?"

"What?" Noting the box he remembered the ruse. "Yes, thank you for bringing them. I need the slides for my seminar." Motioning for her to follow him he raced toward the kitchen. "Do you want something to eat while you fill me in on the case load?"

"No, I grabbed a muffin on the way over here. Some coffee would be good though." Catherine leaned against the kitchen counter. "Are you okay? You look…troubled."

"Oh it's just a lot of work pulling together a presentation at the last minute." Busying himself making coffee, he asked his burning question. "Catherine…didn't you tell me that Mike Rodgers is a vegetarian?"

"Yeah, why?"

Grabbing two mugs from the upper cabinet, he casually replied, "I saw him earlier today eating a chili dog."

"So…I'm an ex-smoker but every few months I take a drag off a cigarette." She studied her boss's face. "Everyone falls off the wagon once in a while." Snickering, she teased, "Well everyone but you because you're not on a wagon."

Unphased, he continued. "When I talked to the counter guy he told me Mike's a regular."

Her eyes sharpened on Grissom. "Are you following Mike?" Could this rational man really be this unbalanced when it came to Sara? There was precedent to support the theory; Grissom's reaction to Debbie Marlin's murder for one. Debbie Marlin could have been Sara's identical twin and Catherine had never seen him as unstable as he had been while processing that case.

"No, I wasn't following him." Annoyed at the implication he turned to the coffee pot. "I just happened to be there." Concern quickly replaced the irritation in his voice. "If he's lying to Sara about being a vegetarian, it made me wonder. Is he lying about anything else?"

Sarcastically she replied, "Yeah, maybe he doesn't even have a dead wife."

Grissom spun around. "Maybe he doesn't. Has he shown any proof?"

Catherine couldn't believe the conversation she was having. "Most people, and I am speaking from experience, don't walk showing off their spouse's death certificate."

His curiosity peaked Grissom rushed over to his home office.

Trailing him Catherine shouted, "You can access death certificates from here?"

Taking a seat at his computer he threw on his glasses. "Not death certificates but I can pull up obituaries. He transferred from Dallas, right?"

"Yes." Catherine pulled up a chair. "You know how bad this looks, don't you?"

Raising his brow he commented, "Well no one is looking but you and you already think I'm nuts."

"I never said nuts." There were several other words that did come to mind but she didn't share them.

A few clicks of the mouse and Grissom had his answer. "She's dead."

"Mystery solved! Can we drop the Mike is a liar thing now?" Seeing him so desperate was beginning to bother her. Rising from her chair she decided to get that cup of coffee.

"Catherine." He grabbed her arm before she could escape. "Didn't you tell me his wife died of breast cancer?"

"Yes." Huffing she looked at the screen. "Why?"

"It says in the obit _in lieu of flowers, donations should be sent to the Boys and Girls Club._" Leaning back in his chair he pondered the new information. "Why wouldn't donations be requested for a cancer charity? Cancer patients, survivors and survivor's families are usually very committed to finding a cure."

Playing devil's advocate, she stated, "Maybe it was her charity before she got cancer and she remained loyal to it?"

Curiously he replied, "Then why not cite both charities and give people a choice?"

Resting her hand on his shoulder she sighed, "Maybe you are grasping at straws in an attempt to get this guy out of Sara's life."

"Or maybe Mike is lying."

Once again rising from her chair for that cup of coffee, Catherine said, "Well if you're that curious, pull yourself out from under your maggots, go into the office and access her death certificate on the system."

"Yeah." Joining her on the way to the kitchen, he reluctantly agreed, "I guess that's what I'll have to do."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Sitting on a bench across the street from The Lucky 7, Sara took a break from the case. She and Nick had been here since midnight and weren't through yet. With no disrespect to the dead man in the pool, this case was an excellent way to keep her mind off her personal problems. Dropping her weary head in her hands she closed her eyes.

In the distance a voice called out. "You don't look so good."

Lifting her head, Sara was surprised to see Mike, in uniform, walking towards her.

"I was driving home and saw you sitting here looking a little lost." He took a seat beside her and sweetly asked, "Another rough case?"

"Yeah…" It was easier to lie. "Nick and I have been here for ten hours. These pool cases are exhausting because you have to check the water, review all the guests…"

"Have you eaten?" Pointing to the coffee shop behind them he suggested, "Let me get you something." Without waiting for her reply he left the bench and stepped inside the coffee shop.

Looking over her shoulder, Sara waited for his return. She hadn't eaten all night and the mention of food sent a series of pangs coursing through her stomach.

Smiling brightly, Mike returned to the bench. "I hope you like chocolate chip muffins." He extended the bag and held on to her cup of coffee. "Coffee, two sugars, right?"

"Right." Smiling for the first time since the emotional drama the day before, she opened the bag and ripped off a piece of the treat. "I love Chocolate Chip muffins." Reaching out she took the coffee and gingerly sipped. "Thank you, I needed this."

"My pleasure." Lowering his voice he said, "Sara…when we spoke the yesterday I got the feeling you were pushing me away. I want you to know that I didn't mean to rush things between us. It's…this is hard for me to say without sounding kinda desperate but here goes…" Fidgeting on the bench he continued, "I think I've been so lonely that when I met you and felt such a great connection I really wanted things to work out so I came on a little strong."

Sighing he settled back on the bench. "It's been hard not having anyone to really talk to and share things with…it's hard going home to an empty apartment every night…eating alone. It's so easy to talk to you, Sara. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable by being pushy. I'm really sorry."

Overwhelmed by his outpouring of honesty, she eased. "It's not you. I've been distracted. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me."

"How about we just start over?" Leaning in he said, "How about we take some time developing a friendship and then we'll see what happens from there? We can break up the monotony of our lives while having some fun and getting to know each other."

Sighing she eased back against the bench. His open communication style was contagious and she dropped her guard. "Monotony is definitely something I'd like to eradicate it's just…I'm good at monotony…it's my comfort zone. Spontaneity, risk taking, adventures…not my forte."

Chuckling with her he announced, "You just need someone to help you cut loose. You said you have a ton of vacation time, right?"

"Yeah." Her curiosity was piqued.

Enthusiastically Mike suggested, "how about we get out of town…absolutely no pressure…separate rooms…just friends decompressing from work and having a great time. We could go boating, mountain biking…nothing like some adventure in the great outdoors to break the monotony. I have week off coming up." Turning to her he encouraged her with his eyes. "What do you say?"

"Umm…" For a control freak like her the spontaneous idea was ludicrous. However, considering how caution and patience had gotten her nowhere, she decided what could it hurt to try a different approach? After all, closure with Grissom was officially achieved and she needed to march forward into the moving-on stage. "You know...I think that is a great idea. It's exactly what I need to do." She almost sounded convinced. "I'll put in a request when I get back to the office."

"Fantastic!" His eyes sparkled. "Call me later and we can talk details." Extending his hand he helped her up from the bench. "I'm really looking forward to it."

"Me too." His infectious smile made her lips curve. "Thanks for the muffin, the coffee…and the encouragement…it was just what I needed."

"Any time." Grinning he watched her cross the street until she disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Upon returning from the crime scene, Sara made a beeline for Grissom's office to grab a vacation request form. 

Although she knew he wouldn't be there, the thought of stepping inside his domain made her bristle. In Grissom's absence would Catherine be able to approve her request or would she have to call the boss? While pondering the thought she reached his door. An unwanted gasp escaped her lips. There Grissom was sitting behind his desk. "You're here? Catherine told me you…" Discomfort seized her.

Grissom's startled expression matched hers in intensity. "My…my seminar got canceled." Quickly he powered down his laptop so she wouldn't catch him pulling up the death certificate. How could he explain his motivation to her when he couldn't explain it to himself?

A tense silence encompassed the room as they avoided each others' eyes.

Sara, determined to be strong, finally mustered the fortitude to state her business. Stepping fully inside the office, she said, "I …I came to get a vacation request form. I need a week off. I'm going out of town." Feeling an unexpected flash of anger she sarcastically added, "I know it's impulsive but isn't that what you'd expect from me?"

"Sara…" Removing his glasses he leaned back in his chair. "I can't approve your request."

She stiffened. "I have ten weeks on the books and I want to use some of it."

"We're incredibly backlogged…" He could tell she didn't believe his professional motives. Did he?

"That's not what this is about." After shutting the door, she marched over to his desk, looked him straight in eyes, and spoke in an angry whisper. "Whenever I try to move on, you undermine my plans. In the past I didn't mind letting you because I believed it was your way of showing me you wanted to be with me when you couldn't tell me." Trying not to let her voice rise with her emotions she paused for a breath. "But now I know how you really feel. You don't want me in your personal life and yet you**_ still_** don't want me to have one of my own. How selfish are you?"

The rawness in her eyes cut him but he maintained his composure. "Sara…I answered your request as a supervisor. If Nick, Warrick or anyone else came in here asking for time off I'd give them the same answer." Averting his eyes he sharply answered. "No."

In a low, tormented voice, she replied. "If I want to keep my sanity I have to force myself to get a life beyond these walls. My P.E.A.P. Counselor agrees. As my supervisor you should be supporting me on this." Leaning over the desk she pleaded with her eyes as well as her voice, "You need to let me go."

The emotionally charged moment was abruptly interrupted when Grissom's door swung open to reveal Conrad Ecklie. "Ahhh…just the two people I needed to see."

Grissom eyes darted to the door and he snipped. "Professional courtesy, Conrad. How about knocking?"

"Sorry but what I have to say is too important to wait for formality." With the lab's Director in Maui for two weeks Ecklie fully intended to enjoy his position as top dog.

In an effort to regain her composure, Sara retreated to the corner of the room and busied herself in a book.

Glancing from Grissom to Sara, he raised a brow. "I'm sorry. Did I interrupt a quarrel of some sort?" Taking a seat he motioned for Sara to take one as well. "Please join us, Ms. Sidle."

The last thing Grissom needed was another complication and whenever Ecklie was involved things got complicated. "What can we do for you?"

Enjoying the suspense, Ecklie teased, "It's what you've already done." Ready to drop the bomb, he sat back in his chair. "I have been informed that there is a serious problem with the Brianna Ellers case."

Sara gasped. "What? Absolutely not!" The challenge to her professional integrity made her forget her personal challenges.

Grissom didn't miss a beat. "I've read Sara's report. There's nothing wrong. She did a fantastic job on the case."

Unbuttoning his jacket, Ecklie detailed his concern. "I received a call from Evidence this morning. One of the vials of GHB found at the scene is missing from the inventory. Ms. Sidle you did the inventory and Gil you were the one who returned the entire inventory back to evidence. The vial wasn't there when the evidence was checked in. The chain of evidence has been breeched, a dangerous substance is unaccounted for and I need an explanation. Who wants to give it to me?"

Grissom and Sara looked to each other to fill in the blanks. He remembering that she hadn't returned the inventory and she recalling the note from him telling her he had taken care of it.

Ecklie reveled in the uncomfortable moment. "Are you covering for her again, Gil? Is that why you took the inventory back to evidence for her…because you knew she screwed up and they'd be less likely to question you?"

Sara heatedly replied, "No! He took it for me because I put in sixteen hours and in my exhaustion I forgot to return the..."

"As I said…he was covering for you." Ecklie rose from his chair so he could loom over the pair. "You know Vegas seems larger than life but really it's pretty small…so small that when someone gets pulled into a police station on a DUI, even if she doesn't get booked, word gets around eventually." His focus narrowed on Sara. "You got off lucky that night, Ms. Sidle and coincidentally who came to your rescue? Who came and took you by the hand and escorted you out of the station? Can you see why I sense a pattern?" With a glint in his eye he added, "what is it that you do around here to deserve such special treatment?"

Blindsided by his intimate knowledge of her failure as well as his veiled accusation, Sara stared at the floor.

Grissom's blood pressure soared. "It was the **_Officer's _**decision to extend a professional courtesy with good reason. Sara's record is spotless. That night she was exhausted from busting her ass for the County. She barely blew over the legal limit. She deserved the break. I am her supervisor so I was the one they **_had_** to call and that's why **_I_ **was the one to escort her out of the station and drive her home. Afterwards, the issue was discussed and the appropriate action advised…there **_wasn't_** a problem…there **_isn't _**a problem. Her work is outstanding..."

"Except when she loses a vial of GHB!" Ecklie steamed. "Let's cut to the chase. You both had your hands on the evidence so it could have been either of you who lost it. I can't suspend both of you because you're so backlogged already it would just make matters worse." Turning to Sara he coldly said, "Ms. Sidle since you are worth less around here you'll be the one suspended….six days, unpaid, starting now."

Closing her eyes she focused on his words…_worth less…_and couldn't help but run them together.

"No!" Grissom jumped from his chair. "I'm not going to let your power trip back up things here. Everyone is already pulling doubles; do you really think cutting our resources is going to help our accuracy?! She's needed **_here_**!"

"And you need to remember your place on the food chain!" Ecklie seethed. "Quit while you're ahead or I'll keep probing and if I do, I'm sure I'll find something to bring you both down…permanently."

Not desiring to make things worse for Sara, Grissom backed off. "Fine…you do what you think you need to do but don't complain when the cases stack up."

Pleased with the submissive response, Ecklie headed for the door without looking back. "Ms. Sidle, remember when you're suspended there is no contact with the office. Use the time to pull yourself together and rethink the error of your ways." Grinning he shut the door behind him, while secretly wishing he could be a fly on the wall.

Staring at the floor, Sara mumbled, "I…I don't know how I could have missed the vial. Maybe it rolled off the counter…maybe into the trash? If it was still in the lab someone would have found it by now. I…I swear I remember packing it though…but I was so…it had to go out in the trash." Lifting her gaze, she whispered, "thank you for defending me about…about everything."

Stoically he replied, "I have to look out for you because..."

"…because you are my supervisor and if Nick or Warrick were in my shoes you'd do the same for them." Unexpectedly her expression warmed as her appreciation of him grew. "It's your job. I know"

"Sara…" Rubbing his temples he sighed. "If we were...a personal relationship would mean my decisions and your reputation would be questioned all the time. You're an excellent CSI, I want people to know your success is based on your intelligence and your dedication. I can't protect you if I give them a reason to doubt my actions."

Resignation laced her voice. "I know." Rising from her chair she placed her pager on Grissom's desk before heading for the door. "You were right all along…it's for the best. I should know better than to question your judgment. I was listening to my heart instead of using my head." At the door she turned back for a moment to reassure him. "I promise never to bring up the subject again." Nodding she grabbed the doorknob and retreated.

As he watched he disappear down the hall it hit him. It wasn't until the moment she gave up that he realized how much he had been counting on her perseverance.

* * *

When Nick strolled into the locker room he was surprised to see Sara sitting on the bench clutching her jacket and purse. 

"Sara?" Waving a hand in front of her face he whistled. "You awake?"

"Huh?"

Grabbing his jacket, Nick chuckled. "I hope you're on you way home to get some sleep."

"I'm on my way all right." Standing up she crossed the room stopping to lean on the lockers next to Nick. "I'm suspended…six days."

"You?!" Shaking his head in disbelief he asked, "What the hell could Little Miss Perfect do to pull that kind of suspension. Not to mention, I can't believe Grissom would suspend you." Was it the Mike thing he wondered? The most he ever did to her while she was seeing Hank was snap at her.

"Grissom didn't…it was Ecklie."

"Ugh!" Nick shook off the chill racing up his spine. Every time Ecklie's name was mentioned he tensed. "If it wasn't for Catherine that bastard would have me rotting in prison for Kristy's murder. That self-righteous pric…"

"Nick!" Looking over her shoulder, Sara chided, "Trust me…the walls have ears."

Grumbling, Nick nodded. "Thanks for watching my ass. So what did you do to get Ecklie so riled?"

Hanging her head Sara replied, "I lost a vial of GHB from the Ellers case." Saying it aloud renewed her anger. "You know I've been going over and over it in my head and I can't see how I did it."

Closing his locker he shook his head. "We're human, Sara. One mistake after all these years…don't beat yourself up. We're so tired half the time it's amazing that we make as few as we do. So what are you going to do with all that free time?" Wiggling his brows he teased, "Will you be spending some of it with Officer Mike?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I just got off the phone with him. We're going to Tahoe." Seeing the wheels turning in her mischievous friend's head she clarified. "As friends…separate rooms…lots of OUTDOOR activities." She winked. "I'm not you, Nick."

"Hey!" Laughing he walked her out of the locker room. "Are you saying I'm loose?"

Playfully punching him in the shoulder she said, "See you in a week."

"You can thank me after the trip for hooking you up with him." Still in the mood to taunt her he said, "I'm going to have to use that '_let's go to Tahoe as friends, separate rooms'_ line with someone. If it worked on you it will work on anyone."

"Oh_ shut_ up."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It was ten a.m. when Grissom entered his office…almost twenty-four hours since Sara walked out the same door. A busy shift provided no opportunity to dwell on what had happened but now, taking a seat behind his desk and seeing her pager in the same spot she had left it, his focus shifted from professional to personal.

Was Sara okay? What was she doing at this moment? What would she be doing today? The questions sped through his curious mind. Would she spend time with Mike? The last question triggered his memory…the death certificate.

While powering up his laptop Grissom heard a knock on the door. It was Catherine. Since she already knew about his covert search, he motioned for her to enter.

"Hey." Collapsing into one of the side chairs she groaned. "Some night, huh?" Wincing she slipped off her black leather flats. Not a good night to break in these new shoes." Gingerly she massaged her toes. "My feet haven't hurt this bad since I wore stilettos. I hate Ecklie for suspending Sara, we could have been done hours earlier if she was working with us. How many times did I warn you not to make enemies, Gil. Ecklie has it out for you. I wouldn't be surprised if he took the GHB just so he could blame you and Sara. I'm convinced he'll stop at nothing to bring you down and break up this team." Finally she noticed Grissom wasn't listening to a word she said. "What has you so intrigued on that laptop?"

Turning the laptop toward Catherine he pointed at the screen. "Check the cause of death."

Forgetting her aching toes for a moment she studied the screen. "Drowning. The DB from the Lucky Seven?"

"No." Concern overwhelmed his expression. "This is Beth Rodgers' death certificate…Mike's wife. She didn't die from breast cancer, she drowned…while boating. It was ruled accidental. So why the breast cancer lie?" Sliding the laptop back he busied himself pointing and clicking.

"Hmm. That is a bit odd." Sitting back in the chair she pondered aloud. "Can you pull up a local newspaper and see if they covered the story?"

With a cocky smile he informed her, "I'm already there."

"Of course you are."

Once again he turned the laptop towards Catherine and silently they took in the details. The headline read _Dallas Woman Drowns in Sailing Accident _and right below was a photo of Officer Mike Rodgers, his face filled with despair and his clothes drenched.

Sighing, Catherine sat back against her chair. "Tough break. He gets knocked out while trying to secure the boom, she goes overboard and when he comes to he can't find her. He must have been frantic. The Coast Guard said he almost died looking for her…" For a moment her thoughts carried her back to the night Eddie died. "Loss is never easy no matter the circumstances."

Without emotion, Grissom, repeated his original question. "So why the breast cancer lie?"

"Huh?" Catherine re-emerged from her own thoughts. "Maybe he says cancer because it's easier than the truth. You know…he's a cop…he saves people for a living so how would it look if he couldn't save his own wife? He moves to Vegas to get away from his shame. He's not going to tell the cops here the real story because they'd look down on him… there is the delicate male ego to consider. And since he already told everyone here that his wife died from cancer, when he met Sara he couldn't tell her the truth; at least not until they were closer and he felt he could trust her."

After considering her theory for a minuteGrissom replied with one of his own. "Maybe he's hiding something. We don't know the state of their marriage at the time or if there was insurance money. We don't have all the evidence. Maybe he didn't want to save his wife. He doesn't seem to have a problem forgetting her, he's moving right along with...."

"It's been a year not a week! You may find it hard to believe but a lot of people don't like to be alone. Even after grieving, it's basic instinct to seek out companionship. Some people need human touch to survive." Shrugging she resumed her foot massage. "Isn't that one of the reasons why prostitution is the oldest profession?"

Without acknowledging her anthropological explanation, Grissom pressed on. "We know for a fact he's a liar."

"The chili dog again?" A frustrated sigh prefaced her next question. "You want to tell Sara, go ahead."

"How can I not tell her? One lie is an anomaly but two lies is the beginning of a pattern." Rising from his chair he walked around and leaned on the edge of his desk. "He's lying to her and she deserves to know."

Catherine fell silent as she remembered the day Sara found out that Hank Peddigrew had been dishonest with her. Sara didn't say much about the incident when they shared a couple of beers after work but Catherine knew she was hurting and she sensed it wasn't the first time Sara had been betrayed. After getting burned once or twice or six times, all lies, no matter how small, are unacceptable; Catherine knew that better than anyone. She wanted to believe that Mike would have innocent explanations for his inconsistencies but her experience with the often duplicitous male species suggested otherwise.

On the other hand, maybe Mike was Sara's chance at happiness and what right did anyone have to ruin it before it even really began. Trying to appeal to Grissom's logical side Catherine explained, "Here's the problem…"

Grissom slipped into the chair beside Catherine to listen.

"If you tell her, it's going to come across as…I mean how are you going to explain knowing this stuff without it looking like…she's going to think you were spying on him to find something to get him out of the picture." Studying his eyes she waited for a reply.

"If it were you with Mike instead of Sara, I'd tell you."

Chuckling at herself she shook her head. "Yeah? Where the hell were you when that last son of a bitch was lying to me daily? That reminds me…" Standing up she returned her battered toes to her painful shoes. "I need to go home and get some sleep because I have a date tonight…you do remember it's my scheduled night off, right? This guy, as far as I can tell hasn't lied to me yet but then again I just met him yesterday while shopping with Lindsay." Before turning for the door she put her hands on her hips and gave her final thought. "Call Sara if it makes you feel better but be prepared for her to shoot the messenger. Good luck."

"Good luck with your date." Secretly he wondered how she so easily exposed herself to potential heart ache time and time again. After everything she's been through why hasn't she given up by now? Hasn't she learned anything? Vegas is a town where the odds are against you. Hitting it big was next to impossible and even if you were one of the lucky few who managed to hit, it was only a matter of time before you sat back powerless and watched it all slip right back through your fingers.

Picking up the phone, Grissom pressed Sara's speed-dial code. While he waited for her to answer he printed off copies of the death certificate and the newspaper article.

After three rings a harsh tone beeped and a wireless company recording blared, _I'm sorry but the subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable_.

Disconnecting, he re-punched Sara's code ,this time making sure it was the correct number. Three rings later the same obnoxious message played. _I'm sorry but the subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable_. However accurate the message, it was unfamiliar and quite unwelcome.

Hanging up he quickly punched in her home number. After four rings her voice mail picked up. _Sidle, please leave a message after the tone._ "Umm…Sara, it's Grissom, I was supposed to have you sign some suspension paperwork before you left." He struggled to sound unaffected. "We don't need Ecklie breathing fire again so when you get this message call me and I'll run the paperwork over to you since you can't come into the lab. I…I tried your cell and it wasn't working and your pager is here so…so call me when you get this message." Without a proper goodbye he disconnected.

The sound of the printer releasing documents caught his ear and he reached over to retrieve them. With Sara out of touch, suddenly Mike's lies took a decidedly ominous tone.

"Hey." Brass strolled in Grissom's office. "Did Nick tell you about the poisoning at Ticchino's?"

Lost in thought Grissom finally looked up and saw Jim standing in front of his desk. "Food poisoning?"

"Yep." Brass helped himself to a chair. "The wife poisoned her husband's food. She thought she could pin it on the cook. Total amateur. Had the stuff in her purse and a million dollar insurance policy at home. Just confessed. Said she got pissed because hubby was running around with a stripper from The Satin Saddle. She wanted him to pay…now so will she.." Loosening his tie he scoffed, "Just another Vegas love story." Checking his watch he asked, "You off the clock? Wanna grab some breakfast?"

"I do." Tucking the documents into his jacket pocket he grabbed his keys. "But I need to ask you a favor first."

"You…asking a favor?" Brass was intrigued as he stood to join his friend. "What is it?"

"I wouldn't ask if someone wasn't in potential danger." Grissom checked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. "I need some information on a new cop; where he went to school, previous employment, any red flags."

Brass stiffened. "You want me to check out a cop and report back to you?" It clearly went against the unwritten code. "You looking for something in particular? I'm going to need more information before I can make a decision. Which case and which cop are we talking about?"

"It's not case related." Reluctantly Grissom offered more. "The cop…he's involved with one of my staff and I know he is lying about some things. I want to check to see if he's hiding something bigger."

Chuckling, Brass leaned against the wall. "A guy involved with one of your staff and you're concerned. Since it is a male cop I'm assuming we can eliminate Warrick, Nick and even Greg. Hmm…let me guess, it's Catherine?" His eye roll spoke volumes.

"Does it matter who it is as long as you know whoever it is she is being lied to and could be in danger?"

"Danger?" Brass' sarcastic grin faded. "What kind of danger?"

Without a word Grissom appealed to his friend.

Now curious as well, Brass relented. "Give me his name."

"Thank you." An appreciative smile appeared on Grissom's face. "Breakfast is on me."

"You bet it is."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Grissom was sitting at the restaurant counter sipping coffee when Brass strolled in with a large white envelope in hand. "I got your info."

"And…" With anxious eyes he watched Brass pull out the paperwork.

"He's clean." Tossing the papers on the counter Brass took a seat. "Not a single blemish in eighteen years."

Grissom scoured the papers like a crime scene. "Graduated UNLV then moved to Colorado Springs where he attended the police academy, stayed there for six years then moved to San Diego for five before moving to Dallas. Stayed there six years before returning to Vegas last year."

Pouring cream into his coffee Brass commented on the summary. "Explains why he's never moved up in the force. He's always starting over."

Puzzled by the findings Grissom kept staring at the papers. "He has a perfect record but he keeps leaving jobs. Why?"

"Variety?" Brass folded the cream into his black coffee. "Some people are restless and need a change of scenery every few years. Maybe, unlike you, this guy works to live instead of living to work. He works, does his job well, and when things get boring he moves on to a new locale." Placing his wet spoon on a napkin Brass grabbed his mug. "I can tell you're not buying that explanation."

Grissom floated a rhetorical question to preface his point. "Tell me again why you left New Jersey?" By Brass's expression he knew his point was duly noted. "People usually leave because they are leaving something behind."

"So I guess that's why you've been able to stay in Vegas for nearly twenty years…no risk, no pain, no reason to leave." Brass paused for a sip of coffee.

Dropping the personal angle, Grissom said, "When I walk into a suspect's home and at first glance everything looks perfect…too perfect…that's the moment I know I'm looking in the right spot. Beyond the perfect outward appearance there's always something waiting to be discovered. On paper, this cop looks perfect."

Setting down his mug Brass grumbled. "I'm eating breakfast alone, aren't I?"

"Sorry." Pulling out his wallet Grissom tossed a twenty on the counter and stuffed the papers in his jacket pocket. "I need to head over to UNLV and start at the beginning."

"Gil…" Brass debated sharing this last bit of information unsure if it would help or hurt. "One more thing…I wanted tosee Rodgers but when I went to track him down I found out he took a week's vacation starting today. No one had any specific information on his plans." Brass was well aware that Sara had been suspended yesterday and wondered if Officer Rodgers sudden vacation plans were somehow connected to Sara's spontaneous availability. "I thought you should know."

Masking his feelings Grissom nodded, "Thanks for the information."

* * *

Stepping into her third floor room at Lakeshore Lodge & Spa, Sara set her suitcase and knapsack down before shutting the door behind her. Immediately her attention was drawn to the panoramic lake view and she darted past the lodge pole bed for the balcony. Sliding the door open she filled her lungs with fresh air and her eyes with new scenery. 

Pleased with what she saw she applauded her acceptance of Mike's offer to get away from the city. He was right; this was just what she needed. Here, in nature's glory, maybe she would be able to forget about work and forget about…"

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Sara."

"One minute." Closing the sliding glass door she crossed the room to answer. When she opened the door there was Mike smiling and holding two beers.

"Wanna kick back and enjoy the view?" He extended an amber bottle while waiting for her answer.

"Sure." Shutting the door to her room she joined him in the hall. "From the dock, okay? Living in the desert for the last four years I'm craving some water."

Clinking his bottle against hers he toasted. "Here's to a relaxing vacation…no crime…no work…just fun."

"Sounds perfect." Sara raised her bottle and took a sip while wondering if she remembered how to relax and even if she did, could she possibly sustain the foreign state for an entire week.

* * *

Sitting in his car in the UNLV parking lot, Grissom tried Sara's cell and once again heard the same undesirable message. _I'm sorry but the subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable_. Several hours had passed since he left the message on her voicemail. This wasn't like her. 

Since Sara arrived in Vegas she was always reachable; if she wasn't in the lab, she was just a page or a phone call away. The longest she had ever taken to respond to him was two hours. He remembered it well. It was her day off and she had gone to Pahrump with Hank Peddigrew. When she finally arrived on the scene he barked at her for taking so long. That's how it always worked…when he needed her he'd call and she'd come running but when she needed him…that's when he went running.

Flashing back to Sara's heated words the day before, Grissom heard her echo. '_You don't want me in your personal life and yet you **still** don't want me to have one of my own. How selfish are you? You need to let me go'_. She was right. If he wouldn't risk being with her then he had no right to expect her to remain close. It was amazing she had put up with his controlling behavior for this long.

So many times he had wanted to take a chance with her but every time his instinct for self-preservation kicked into overdrive. The instinct ran deep and after all these years it was as necessary to his survival as air and water. With a life force of its own, it frequently vetoed his desires.

Around the lab he often said, _people lie, the evidence never does_. Decades ago, when he first heard this quote, was the day he chose science over people. Science was safe…something you could rely on to provide answers. People, on the other hand, were dangerous; they only left you with questions.

From an early age he learned that people are capable of all kinds of surprises; even the ones closest to you could disappoint, disconnect and disappear. His first teachers were his parents and over the years several others reinforced these lessons in human nature until one day he realized he had acquired more than enough first-hand knowledge.

As the years passed he consistently counted on science instead of people and rather than build relationships he spent his time building a wall. Being human, every once in a while he would feel compelled to move beyond the self-imposed border but always with someone safe…someone with whom he'd never really connect…someone who would never fit into his life and would be gonequickly.

Then Sara came along and he felt an instant connection. Over time he knew she could be the perfect fit. The knowledge terrified him, for if Sara was capable of tearing down his wall…she was also the one who could tear him apart. So in spite of his yearnings, he stayed on guard and when needed, he fought to keep her out.

But now, cradling his silent cell phone, thinking of her and hoping she would call, he knew he had failed. Although he couldn't pinpoint when or how, Sara had obviously infiltrated his defenses.

Glancing out the window towards the UNLV library he questioned his motive for being here. Was he here because he truly believed Sara was in danger or was he the one really in peril?

* * *

Sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the lapping water, Sara experienced a small dose of serenity. "I don't think I realized how much I missed the water." Turning to Mike who was sitting about a foot away, she said, "I never wanted to live anywhere more than a half hour from the beach." 

"Then why did you move to Vegas?" Finishing his beer he put the bottle aside.

"As a favor to a friend I came out to help on a high profile case. It was supposed to be temporary…" Staring ahead at the water her voice faded. "…but when asked to stay, I felt compelled to oblige." Hugging her knees to her chest she recalled the moment.

_Walking through the parking lot with Grissom, Sara flashed a cocky grin. "When I return home in a week how will you survive without me?" Covering her real agenda, she added, "The lab is so busy and you're short on resources." _

"_I was hoping I wouldn't have to find out." _

_Her ears perked along with her curiosity. "Oh really. How?" _

"_By keeping you here." Smiling, he popped the question. "The lab really needs you, Sara. How about moving to Vegas? Best lab in the country."_

"_Well…I'll have to give it some thought." _

_Lowering his voice, he began to plead his case. "I really hope you'll…"_

"_Okay, I'll stay." _

"Sara? Are you chilly?" Mike proceeded to remove his leather jacket. "Here…put this on."

"Oh…yeah, I caught a chill from the lake breeze I guess." Slipping her arms into the jacket sleeves, she smiled politely. "Thanks."

"Wait a sec." Mike carefully reached into his left jacket pocket. "My sunglasses. They're my favorite pair and I'm sort of obsessed about them. It's not a vanity thing. My mom got them to me for my birthday right before she passed away." As he put them on he sighed. "You know, Sara, maybe Vegas is where you needed to be for a while but now you're getting ready for a change. That might explain why you say you're so stressed lately. Personally I've moved around quite a bit and I like it. I get antsy staying in one place too long."

"Yeah, maybe that's it." Moving beyond her introspective mode, Sara asked, "so…any ideas for some outdoor adventures?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I put some brochures in the inside pocket of my jacket." Chuckling, he said, "In order to avoid a major personal space violation I think you should grab them."

"Thanks." Laughing she reached in and pulled out the brochures, handing them to Mike.

Dangling the first one he announced, "I know just how to get you to relax."

"You do, huh?" While perusing the brochure she listened.

I'm going to take you fishing." He chuckled lightly. "Nothing will teach you to calm down like waiting forever for a big fish to jump on your hook."

Laughing at her own inside joke, Sara replied, "I've tried it. It has the opposite effect on me. I'll pass. I'm ready for something different."

"Okay fishing is out." Pointing to the second brochure, he said, "Then check out this hike. It's looks amazing."

* * *

Inside the UNLV library reference room, Grissom loaded the first strip of microfiche. The college hadn't gotten around to scanning old documents for computer upload so microfiche was the only way to read decades-old copies of The Rebel Yell, the school's student newspaper. Considering the advanced technology they had in the lab it was easy to forget there was a time not long ago when things weren't immediately accessible via computer. 

An hour later, Grissom loaded the last of the microfiche and readied himself for a dead end. It was the last semester prior to Rodgers' graduation; Spring 1981. Speeding through the pages, a headline finally caught his eye. _UNLV Mourns the Loss of Samantha Hatcher._ Focusing the machine on the details of the article, Grissom froze_. Samantha, a Junior at UNLV died January 15th while hiking in Red Rock with her boyfriend, Mike Rodgers, UNLV Senior._

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Relieved to find Sara's car in the parking lot of her apartment complex, Grissom hurried into the building. Sure he only had two accidental deaths and a chili dog to support his theory about Mike but Sara was a reasonable woman and would be grateful for the information. At least that's what he told himself as he walked down the hall.

About to knock on the door, he paused. What if he was wrong about Mike? What if he told Sara the theory and ended up looking like a fool? Doubting his motives he wondered if a lethal combination of paranoia and jealousy had caused him to lose his objectivity.

So Mike ate chili dogs on the sly. Having experienced Sara's _meat rage_ himself he could understand why Mike might want to keep his carnivorous craving a secret from her. Not that it was acceptable to keep secrets in a relationship but Mike and Sara didn't have a _relationship_, they had only gone out a couple of times and barely knew each other.

Standing in front of Sara's door Grissom continued the debate. What about the accidents? They were too coincidental. Then again, what if Mike was merely the victim of bad luck? Did he lie about his wife's cause of death because people wouldn't believe him when he said he lost two loved ones in accidents? Experience told him people sometimes lie because they fear other people won't accept the truth. For a proof statement he had to look no further than a mirror.

Again, Grissom questioned his motivation. If this was a criminal case, and not a mission to protect Sara, would he have jumped to the same sinister conclusion about Mike or would he have prided himself on staying objective until evidence proved otherwise? The answer was clear…if he took Sara out of the equation he would be curious but not suspicious and certainly not judgmental.

Maybe Catherine was right about Mike and it was merely an ego thing. Mike couldn't tell people the truth about his wife's death because he would feel emasculated. What if after Samantha's death he received an overdose of ego bashing. After all, people were cruel and eager to exploit weakness especially when a guy is down on his luck. Relating the feeling to his own life Grissom sighed, it was this very reason that forced him to keep his hearing loss from others. A secret he kept even from Sara whom he had known for years. As a matter of fact, he had lied to Sara on numerous occasions to protect his secret, so who was he to question Mike's treatment of Sara when it came to honesty. The hypocrisy was blatant.

Empathizing again, Grissom could imagine the looks Mike received as the buzz around campus turned from _Mike Rodgers All American Jock _to _Jerk who lets girlfriend die while hiking_. Wouldn't Ecklie have enjoyed telling the entire lab _Grissom's going deaf and now he's only half the CSI he used to be…only half the man he used to be_? Isn't that why he never told Sara?

Then there was Mike's reputation. When Mike was no longer the big man on campus, what did he do? He became a cop to redeem himself by saving others. As his work record showed, for the last 18 years he did a fantastic job. Maybe his record is spotless because he has something to _prove_ instead of something to hide.

Realizing he didn't have enough information or the objectivity to make a rational decision about Mike, he decided to knock on Sara's door and simply ask how she was doing. Maybe find out her plans for the week and if she didn't have any, find a way to occupy her time. Raising his fist, he gave three swift knocks.

From behind, Grissom heard a woman's raspy voice. "She's not gonna answer."

Turning, Grissom was surprised to see a senior woman dressed as loud and as colorful as the casino floor at the Flamingo. "Excuse me?" She was a sight with her bleach blonde hair piled on her head, fuchsia leopard print blouse revealing her surgically enhanced chest, fitted black leather pants, strappy silver heels, thick blue eye shadow and talons for nails. "Who are you?"

Flashing a stellar smile the sixty-something trying to be twenty-something extended her hand. "Roxie Delacroix. I live across the hall."

Shaking her hand, Grissom politely replied, "I'm Gil Grissom. I'm looking for Sara Sidle. Did you say you know where she is?"

Eyeing the mysterious man she inquired, "Are you a client?"

"Am I a client?" He tilted his head while he pondered her question.

"Yeah." Wiggling her painted-on brows she said, "Sara…and I only know her name because I got a piece of her mail once, she's an odd one to figure out. Never talks to any of us in the building. Never smiles or waves. Mr. Klein in 367 thinks she's a real bitch."

Lowering her voice Roxie said, "Sara works nights and sometimes she doesn't return for days at a time. She's obviously in the biz." Leaning against the wall, her tone turned curious. "You're the first guy I've ever seen come to her door." Eyeing him closely she repeated her original assumption. "I'm thinking you're her client. What did she cut you off and now you're stalking her?"

"I'm sorry." Baffled by the woman's comments he tried to get clarification. "I'm not her client. What exactly do you think Sara does for a living?"

Pulling out a cigarette Roxie was eager to gossip. "Got a light?"

"Sorry, I don't smoke." Mesmerized he watched her fish out a sparkly silver lighter from her furry fuchsia purse and with a shaky hand fire up her Kools.

"Here's my theory..." Pausing she took a lengthy drag. "There's no way she's a stripper because she doesn't have the rack. Take it from me, you don't survive on stage in this town without the goods; you know what I mean?" Shimmying she emphasized her point. "And no way is she a hooker because she doesn't have the people skills. Nah, I figure there's only one thing a frosty chick like Sara would be good at in this town." Nodding she revealed her conclusion. "Dominatrix." A mischievous grin sprouted on her face. "Yeah, I bet she's real good at it too. I can picture her dressed in leather and cracking a whip. Can't you?"

Grissom stuttered an incoherent reply. "I…she…"

"If she's any good she's working for Lady Heather. Maybe you should check there. Her place is on…"

Holding up his hand he stopped her. "I…I'm familiar with Lady Heather's."

Now it was Roxie's turn to be stunned. "You're a regular at Lady Heather's?"

Clearing his throat he quickly dispelled her latest theory. "No, I've never been a customer of Lady Heather's. I was a Crime Scene Investigator there a couple of times. I work for the Las Vegas Police Department."

"Ah! That makes much more sense." Chuckling she flicked her cigarette to the floor, stomping it with her slinky shoe. "Stay away from Lady Heather's, that place isn't for you, honey. The last thing an uptight, stressed-out, mid-life crisis guy like you needs is domination." Tossing him a wink she finished her analysis. "What you need is liberation!"

Amused, he jokingly replied, "Thank you for the psychoanalysis, Dr. Roxie. I feel like I should pay you." Her assessment couldn't have been more accurate.

"Well, I used to charge $200 an hour for time on my couch." Snickering she teased. "Of course I'm retired now but for the right price I …wait…did you say you were LVPD? I was only kidding."

"I'm not a cop, I'm a scientist. And while I'm sure time on your couch would be enlightening to any man, what I really need is information about Sara." Pointing to Sara's door he re-directed the conversation. "Can you tell me how you knew Sara wouldn't answer?"

Pleased she wouldn't be going to the slammer for solicitation _again_, Roxie eagerly complied. "I saw her leaving with a suitcase early this morning."

Relieved that Sara was out of town and not in danger, he relaxed. Unfortunately the moment of relief didn't last long when he considered she might be out of town with Mike. "Was she with anyone?"

"No."

The relief was back.

"But when I ran down the hall to spy, I saw her get into a truck with some guy."

Relief gone, Grissom's gut twisted at the thought of Sara on vacation with Mike...even if he wasn't a murderer…even if he wasn't a jay walker. "What did the guy look like and what was he driving?"

"He was a real looker." Smiling, her eyes sparkled. "Dark hair, strong jaw, nice bod, really big shoulders. Drove one of those big SUVs…dark green I think."

So while he was the 'uptight, stressed-out, mid-life crisis guy' in Roxie's eyes, Mike was Superman. First a Lady Heather reminder and now the humiliating comparison with Mike. What next Grissom wondered? Was Mr. Klein in 367 going to pants him? "Ms. Delacroix, did you happen to get a license plate?"

"No, I was focusing on the hunk, not the truck."

"Of course you were."

"Hey! Just because the mare is old doesn't mean she can't appreciate a stallion."

His worst fears confirmed, Grissom continued his line of questioning with a weaker voice. "How did Sara look?"

"Plain as usual."

How could anyone think Sara is plain, he wondered? She's beautiful. Of course if Roxie's idea of beauty was neon makeup and pink faux fur, from her point of view Sara would appear plain. "I mean did she look happy or did she look distressed?"

Chuckling again, Roxie answered, "Well I would have expected her to look a hell of a lot happier driving away with that hunk, god knows I would have, but she looked…she looked like she always looked…kinda blah. _He_, on the other hand, looked _real_ happy. He jumped to get her suitcase and open her door…real eager to please. So I figured she was working and he was being submissive…"

Grissom's voice softened. "Ms. Delacroix, just so you know, Sara isn't involved in any illegal activity and she's not a stripper, a hooker or a dominatrix. Like me, she's a member of the Crime Lab…a very valuable member. Although she may not make a contribution to this building, she's making one to the city every day. So, in the future, when you or Mr. Klein see her coming home exhausted after a long shift try not to judge her silence. Take it from me, it's hard to make small talk when you've spent the last twelve hours analyzing a crime scene hoping to gather enough evidence to catch the animal who raped and killed a child. Sara's a wonderful person with a heart full of compassion for the victims she helps. Most days she has a lot of weight on her shoulders and she's not always good with people."

Sighing, Roxie said, "Well, when people don't share anything about themselves you have no choice but to fill in the blanks."

"Thanks for your help." Walking away, Roxie's parting comment haunted him. How many of his blanks had curious people filled in over the years? How far from the truth were there assumptions? Would the truth be worse than what they've imagined? Deciding he had no time to think about himself, he focused on the task at hand…discovering the truth about Mike Rodgers.

* * *

Perched atop the 9000 foot summit, Sara absorbed the spectacular view of the pristine lake twinkling below her. Surrounded by Lodge Pole Pine Trees and twittering birds she couldn't imagine there was a more peaceful place in the world. It was a far cry from the incessant noise and blinding neon of Vegas. 

Handing Sara a water bottle, Mike loomed over her. On the way up the mountain bike trail she had mentioned feeling a bit dizzy. "Is the altitude still bothering you?"

"No, I'm feeling much better." Blissful from the scenery, she sighed. "I don't think it's the altitude. I think the problem is I spend too much time at work and not enough time at the gym. I used to work out five days a week. Now I'm lucky if I go once."

Taking a seat beside her, Mike shook his head. "So…you don't get much sleep, your idea of a balanced vegetarian diet is chocolate and pancakes and now I find out you don't exercise. You have to take better care of yourself, Sara. You'll have more energy on the job if you're rested and healthy. You need to get more sleep, hit the gym at least four times a week, up your soy protein intake and cut down on the sugar and caffeine."

"You sound like a personal trainer." Teasing she said, "Should I drop and give you twenty right here?"

"I prefer _life coach_ and no, save your energy for the ride down." Taking her hand he pulled her to her feet. "Are you sure you'll be okay riding? Some of the terrain is tricky and I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. "Anxious to prove her ability, she reached for her helmet and joked. "Besides, when you're going down a mountain the laws of physics are on your side."

Grinning he asked, "Gravity? As you plunge over the edge? I'm not a scientist so maybe I can't see the benefits."

"I was thinking of momentum." Snapping her helmet strap she teased. "But thanks for planting the death thoughts in my head…and you're supposed to be a relaxing influence?" Hopping on her bike she took off. "Last one down buys lunch."

Mike mounted his bike then paused to watch her hurriedly navigate the bumps ahead. "I said you need to learn to relax, Sara, not be reckless!" They had been warned by the bike rental place that the trail was steep in some places and several careless people die on it every year. Hurrying after her, he called, "Really, you have to slow down you're making me tense!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Stepping out of his car in the driveway of 42 Palm Lane, Grissom studied the modest home in front of him. Built in the sixties, it was truly a Vegas original, not to be confused with the cookie-cutter mini-mansions springing up in the 'burbs.

Closing the car door he headed for the house still unsure whether he was looking for evidence or looking for a wedge to place between Mike and Sara. Still, one migraine pill, five hours of deep sleep and one intriguing phone call later, he was refreshed and ready to continue the quest wherever it may lead.

Before he could ring the bell, the door opened and a petite woman met him with a nervous smile. "Mr. Grissom?"

Flashing his ID he nodded. "Yes." Fascinated by her image, he studied her features. It was as if the photo of Samantha Hatcher had been aged to produce the living version standing in the door way. "Wendy Hatcher, I presume?"

"Wendy Blake now." Opening the door she gestured for him to enter. "I'm uh…I'm still a wreck from your phone call. It's been over twenty years since I lost my sister but hearing you talk about it brings me right back to the day. I haven't stopped shaking since you called."

Walking into the living room he took in the familial atmosphere. Cheerful photos lined the walls and dotted the shelves, toys were scattered randomly over the floor, the smell of fresh-baked cookies wafted from the kitchen and two cocker spaniels circled his feet. It was a sharp contrast to his austere townhouse where the walls displayed framed butterflies, the only thing scattered were books and the only creatures beside him were bugs.

Raking her fingers through her cropped golden hair, Wendy realized she hadn't prepared for company. "Sorry…you must think this place looks awful. We only moved in a couple of months ago after my mom passed on and I haven't been able to organize…"

"Not what I was thinking at all." Bending down he placated the curious dogs with a few pats. "The homes I usually go to don't have this kind of life, it's refreshing."

"Well, after your phone call, I brought the kids to my friend's.When I got back I headed to the kitchen and started baking up a storm. It's what I do when I'm stressed." Rolling her eyes at herself she explained. "It's what my mother did when she was stressed. After Samantha's death she spent all her time in the kitchen baking for senior citizen homes, schools, you name it. It was her outlet and now that she's gone…it's mine."

"Everyone needs something." Standing up he smiled at the weary woman. "I like to ride roller coasters."

Nodding, she refocused on the unpleasant subject at hand. "So when you called you said you had been reviewing cases and wanted to know more about my sister."

Taking out a small notepad and pen he noted the date. "You reaction puzzled me. Why did you say, you always hoped the truth would come out. What truth?"

"I need to sit down." Backing up she dropped into a worn armchair. "I've never told anyone but my mother and she wouldn't listen. You see my mom worshipped Samantha. Even though my sister and I were twins, Samantha was a carbon copy of my mom. I…I was the rebel…the one who never made the right choices. So when my sister died and I tried to tell my mom I didn't think her death was an accident that I knew...he killed her." Choking on the words she dropped her head in her hands. "It was my fault if I hadn't said...I don't think I can talk about it. I've never talked about it and I don't know why I even let you come here."

"He?" Grissom's eyes narrowed. "Who is he? I know this is difficult but you need to stay with me Wendy."

Through her tears she struggled, "My father…"

It wasn't the answer he expected. "You believe your father murdered your sister?"

Shaking her head, she clarified while sobbing into her palms. "My father considered him the son he never had so when I told my mom, she said I was lying and warned me never to say it again…that if my father were to hear…it would kill him. My dad had a heart condition. I never said it again…not even after my dad died. I lived with the guilt all these years and until you called I never thought I would talk about it as long as I lived."

Looking up she wiped her tear-soaked cheeks. "I know this will sound crazy but after I hung up the phone with you I heard my sister's voice inside my head. Like…like she was asking me to speak for her."

"Wendy." Kneeling down beside the distraught woman he gently asked, "Who do you think killed your sister?"

"I don't think…I **_know_**." After filling her lungs, she locked eyes with the investigator. "Mike Rodgers." She was surprised to see such a tense reaction from the man at her side. "Mr. Grissom?"

"How do you know?" Suddenly his suspicion was becoming fact and his concern for Sara a horrible reality.

Having said the name aloud, Wendy felt a weight lift off her shoulders and the freedom allowed her trapped words to flow. "Mike was the guy everyone wanted to hang with…the guys wanted to be his buddy and the girls…they all fell at his feet. My sister was no exception. **_I _**was no exception. He knew just the right thing to say and when to say it. My sister was so in love with him, certain they'd marry and have kids, dogs, the whole nine yards. She never knew the real Mike."

"But you did?"

A flash of anger hardened her features. "At first I was like the rest of them…I adored him. I was even jealous of my sister. I never saw it coming.

"It was around two a.m. I was returning to campus from a frat party and Mike appeared out of nowhere." Her tone turned icy. "He was drunk and started pawing me…saying how he always wanted to make it with twins but he knew Samantha wouldn't go for a threesome so he'd have to be satisfied with keeping the knowledge of his conquest from her. I couldn't get him off me and before I knew it he had me on the ground behind some bushes. He was so strong. I was drunk. I tried but I couldn't get away." She bit her lip until it throbbed. "I…I never told anyone…"

Fighting past his own fear, Grissom reached out the best he could. "There's a statue of limitations on rape but not on murder. You have to keep talking."

Closing her eyes she resumed her story. "After he was...done…he started laughing at me. He said he knew I wouldn't tell anyone because my parents already thought I was slut. They would say I was lying because I was jealous of my perfect sister's boyfriend. I told him I didn't care what anyone thought of me. I was going to tell my sister, my parents, anyone who would listen and then they would all see him for the monster he really was. I told him my sister and my parents would never look at him the same. Suddenly he stopped laughing and his eyes…I'd never seen eyes like that before…like that saying...if a look could kill. It was terrifying. And then without saying another word he left."

The profile Wendy painted played on Grissom's worst nightmare. "What did you do?"

Shame replacing anger, she confessed. "Nothing. I went back to my dorm, showered and packed a bag. I went to my parents' cabin and hid for two days. When I finally called home I found out my sister was dead. He killed her twelve hours after he raped me."

A hunch wouldn't do any good. He needed evidence. "So based on how Mike treated you, you believed Mike killed your sister."

"No." Pausing she raised the courage to tell the final part of the story. "When I came home my house was filled with people comforting my parents and Mike. He looked so devastated. His sobs...they sounded like they were straight from his soul. Even after what he did to me I felt sorry for him. Hell, I even started feeling guilty about being so angry with him. I thought maybe we were both drunk and who knows what really happened. I mean clearly he loved my sister because he was beside himself with grief."

Disgust hastily returned to her voice. "The next day, after the funeral, I decided to take a break from the chaos in the house. As an excuse, I took the trash to the dumpster in the alley. When I turned around to go back through the gate Mike was standing there blocking me. That look was back in his eyes and a chill ran up my spine. He said…he said… '_I guess you won't be telling your sister anything. I made sure of that_. _Don't worry, Samantha never saw it coming._'" Gripping her stomach she wailed. "You see if I hadn't said I was going to tell, my sister would be alive today. If I hadn't been afraid and had gone home or to the hospital and been able to prove he…"

Anger seething inside him Grissom fought to remain calm. "You are not responsible for your sister's death. Wendy. Is there a chance anyone saw Mike assault you?"

"No…there was no one around."

"Is there a chance anyone overhead what he said to you in the alley?"

"No." Gritting her teeth she added, "Don't you see…he's too good! He gets away with everything. He killed my sister but everyone called him a hero for trying to rescue her when she fell."

Sitting against the wall, Grissom rubbed his temples. The migraine was returning. He didn't know where Sara was but wherever she was, if she was with Mike, she was in the company of a rapist and murderer. _**Unless **_of course Wendy's story was just that...a story. What if Wendy was merely exacting revenge against Mike because of her old jealousy? Jealousy makes people do crazy things. Wasn't it the green-eyed monster that landed him on Wendy's doorstep in the first place?

Grissom knew the score...there was no evidence and people lie all the time. As honest as Wendy seemed, she could merely be adept at the fine art of deception. Then again she could be telling the truth.

Grissom's head throbbed as the volley continued in his mind..._if Wendy is a liar then Sara is safe...if Wendy is telling the truth then Sara is in jeopardy. Wendy can't prove her story...You can't prove she's lying_. Feeling a little queasy he asked, "Could I use your restroom?"

"Of course." Rising to her feet, Wendy directed him. "It's straight down that hall, first door on your right."

"Thank you." He thought a cold splash of water on his blood drained face might help him get a grip. When he reached the door, he turned the knob surprised to find it locked. Trying again he got the same result. Intrigued he wondered, if they were alone why was the bathroom door locked?

When Wendy saw him at the wrong door she joined him. "I said first door on the right, not left. That room was my sister's…my mom locked it the day my sister died andmy momwas the only one ever allowed to open it. We only moved in a couple of months ago and I haven't been able to bring myself to deal with the room. I know I have to clean it out, I just…"

"Your sister's room?" Grissom's right brain seized control back from the emotional left. "What's in there?"

"All of my sister's stuff. My mom was a little obsessed. She even kept my sister's stuff from the accident, even her bloody jacket. It's bizarre, I know. My husband is so understanding about it."

"Could I see it?" The words _bloody jacket_ were music to his ears.

"I…" Wendy swallowed hard. "I don't know if I can let you..."

"Mrs. Blake…" He softened his voice. "That jacket may tell us something your sister couldn't. I'm trained to interpret blood spatter patterns and use the interpretations to determine how an injury occurred. The newspaper articles I read on your sister's accident said Mike told the police she slipped off the edge of a cliff and hit her head on a rock. The blood on the jacket could tell a different story and if it does, I could have enough information to re-open your sister's case."

A mixture of hope and terror flickering in her eyes, Wendy nodded. "I'll get the key."

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Wendy Blake somberly led Catherine and Brass through the house toward her deceased sister's bedroom. Unable to enter the room herself, she pointed. "Mr. Grissom is right in there."

Brass motioned for Catherine to go ahead. "Mrs. Blake, I need to ask you a few questions. It won't take long." The scent of banana bread overwhelmed him, bringing back distant memories of his grandmother's house on Christmas morning.

"Can we sit in the kitchen? I have to keep an eye on the oven."

Thrilled to get closer to the tantalizing aromas overwhelming his nose, Brass was more than happy to oblige. "Certainly." What a contrast to his kitchen, where the only smell that ever floated in the air was the stench of a garbage can in need of dumping.

Wendy forced a smile. "I bake when I'm stressed. Would you like some banana bread, Captain Brass?"

Pleased as dog offered a juicy bone, he masked his excitement and kindly replied, "If it will put you at ease, I'd be more than happy to have a slice while we chat."

* * *

From the doorway, Catherine studied Grissom kneeling over a bloody jacket displayed on a clean white sheet. He was so still she wasn't sure if she should call his name or check his pulse. "Gil…" The last couple of days he teetered on the verge of neurosis and this day didn't look like it was going any better for him. "Gil..." When he didn't reply she stepped in the room and tapped his shoulder. "Gil…" 

Startled, he grabbed his chest.

"Sorry. Didn't you hear me calling you?" Eyeing him with concern, she asked, "Are your ears okay?"

Happy to see her, his expression warmed. "I was lost in thought."He motioned for her to join him on the floor.

Catherine knelt beside him. "So what are we doing here? Brass wouldn't tell me anything…said you didn't want me to know."

Standing Grissom said, "I want you to look at this jacket with unbiased eyes. The only thing you need to know is the victim, a twenty year old female, one-hundred ten pounds, five foot four, was reported to have sustained a fatal head injury while hiking and wearing this jacket."

Always ready for a puzzle, Catherine leaned over the jacket. "They don't make jackets like this anymore. "After scrutinizing the blood spatter for several minutes she gave her analysis. "Blood drops between three and four millimeters, indicates medium-velocity impact. The direction of the spatter shows the vic was hit from behind with the strike in a downward motion." Floating her index finger above the stains she talked her way through the action. "Here is the spatter from the initial impact and this is a trail left when the object, dripping with her blood was moving away from her."

On edge, Grissom impatiently waited for her conclusion.

Catherine leaned in closer. "There's something else. More drips. Much lower velocity. Different impact angle. I'm thinking…"

Kneeling beside her, he watched her eyes and knew, she saw the same thing he did.

"..these drips don't belong to the vic. Whoever hit her, cut themselves on the object they used to strike her." Turning to Grissom, she said, "Accident happened while hiking, right? I'm thinking a sharp rock. We won't know for sure until we examine the body."

His heart sinking, he quietly replied, "That's what I was thinking."

The mystery getting to her, Catherine asked, "What's the official story?"

"Girl fell while hiking and hit her head on a rock."

"Yeah and I'm a virgin." Cocking her head, she asked, "Is this some kind of field test? What the hell are we doing here? Whose house is this and who is the vic?" Taking a deep breath she added, "And what smells so damn good in that kitchen?"

"The vic is Samantha Hatcher. This was her parents' house and now it belongs to her sister, Wendy Blake. She's woman who let you in and it's her banana bread you smell. I came here chasing a wild goose and found a murder." Anger crept into his voice. "The vic, Samantha Hatcher, died while hiking with her boyfriend…Mike Rodgers."

Catherine's eyes widened as the implication resonated.

Before Catherine could reply, Grissom delivered the next blow. "Samantha died twelve hours after Mike Rodgers raped her sister, Wendy." Contemptuously he spat out, "And four days later, when he cornered Wendy, he bragged about killing Samantha.

Covering her mouth Catherine murmured, "My God…"

Watching her horrified reaction only deepened the fear growing inside him. "So now we know Mike lost his girlfriend in a hiking accident in 1981 and lost his wife in a boating accident in 2003. Makes you wonder what he got away with in between and what he's looking forward to accomplishing."

Until now she was certain he was paranoid and acting out of fear of losing Sara. "It's not in your head."

Turning his gaze to the floor he responded. "I wish it was but the evidence suggests otherwise."

She could only imagine the devastation Sara would feel but at least Grissom was able to spare her any further pain or worse yet...harm. Dizzy from the details she whispered, "What did Sara say when you told her?"

The question was a harsh reminder that Sara was still unreachable and possibly in imminent danger. Mustering the strength, Grissom replied, "I couldn't tell her."

"What? Why not?" Now was not the time to play shy.

"She's out of town most likely with…" The corner of his mouth twitched. "…him."

Jumping to her feet, Catherine yelled, "Page her! Call her cell!"

"She left her pager in my office when she was suspended and her cell isn't working…I've tried dozens of times. I left an urgent message on her machine but she hasn't called back." Standing up, Grissom steadied himself against the wall. "Catherine, I have no idea where she is. I went to her apartment looking for her. Her neighbor told me she saw Sara, with a guy matching Mike's description, getting into a truck. Sara had suitcase so she was going somewhere. She could be anywhere. I'd like to believe she's not with him but it seems pretty clear that's the case."

The torment in his voice affected her deeply and compelled her to find a solution to the problem. "Okay…okay…let's think about this." Hands on her hips she paced the room. "Maybe she's at his place?"

"I got his address and checked it out before you arrived here." Shaking his head he informed her of the disappointing news. "His neighbor saw me at the door and told me that Mike had asked him to grab his newspapers because he was going out of town."

"We'll track his credit cards!"

"I can't get a subpoena to access his records until we process this jacket, get an official statement from Mrs. Blake and get a warrant."

"Nick!" Reaching for her cell phone, she punched in his speed dial code. "He's friends with both of them. He introduced Mike to Sara and…." Shaking her head as the phone rang she knew Nick would never forgive himself for setting Sara up. Glancing over at Grissom she knew Nick's guilt wouldn't be his only problem. "Voice mail. I'll leave a message."

* * *

Knocking on Sara's door, Mike couldn't wait to see her and when she appeared, his eyes lit up. "Hey, I was heading down to the hot tub and was hoping you would join me." Smirking he teased, "You have to be pretty sore from that bike ride today so I think it would feel good to…" 

Stoically, Sara replied, "Sorry…I don't do public hot tubs."

Feeling sorry for her, he wondered, how repressed could she be? Sympathetically he whispered, "Is this a bathing suit thing? Too shy?"

"Too knowledgeable." Chuckling she explained, "I've swabbed many hot tubs in my lifetime."

Certain he could alleviate her concerns he countered, "This isn't The Pussycat Motel, Sara. It's a really nice place; I'm sure they put chemicals in there and keep it clean. It looked spotless when I walked by it earlier."

Rolling her eyes she enlightened the naive man on her doorstep. "Yeah, well IF they get the chemicals right it helps the water but it doesn't help what lurks above the water line or on the perimeter and lots of people are quite _active _on the perimeter if you get my drift. Oh and just because something looks spotless to the eye doesn't mean it's not crawling with DNA deposits." At ease with her paranoia she added, "I'm not using the comforter either; it brings me no comfort to touch something that's only cleaned once a month. Too bad I didn't bring my ALS I could give you a light show."

Masking his disappointment he sweetly replied, "You can take the girl out of the lab…

"…but she's still a germ-phobe." An unstoppable yawn interrupted the conversation. "Sorry…I know it's only five but I'm really tired from today. I think I'm going to catch up on that sleep you said I so desperately needed."

While cursing himself for telling her to sleep more, he smiled. "You'll need it for the hike I have planned tomorrow."

"Thanks for the warning." Returning his friendly smile she began shutting the door. "Good night."

"Night." Tonight was obviously not the night she would loosen up but there were several days left, which he figured would be more than enough time. Until then, he would savor the pursuit.

* * *

At the kitchen table, Grissom sat next to Wendy Blake making an impassioned plea. "I know the idea of exhuming your sister's body is…" 

"Horrifying! It's…I can't even imagine…" Sniffling into a tissue she pushed the exhumation paperwork away. "My mother didn't want an autopsy, if she knew I was even considering this…"

Brass had warned him before he left that it would be a battle to get Wendy to agree but Grissom kept trying. "Without your sister's remains we only have the jacket and your hearsay about events that happened over twenty years ago." Trying to remain calm, he stayed factual. "I've been down this road before, the DA won't go to trial, your sister won't get the justice she deserves and you won't get the peace of mind that you need."

Looking up from her wad of tissues, Wendy made another confession. "My husband knows my sister died and how it devastated my family to the point where we kept all her belongings locked in a room. He doesn't know what I told you. If I proceed with this investigation, my secrets will come out. What will he think of me if he finds out what a coward I was…that I let my sister's killer walk away…that I have known who it was all these years? What if he thinks I'm a horrible person?"

"I don't know your husband so I can't answer that question. "Grissom knew people though. When the going gets tough sometimes loved ones chose to get going rather than stay and deal with the drama. "You'll have to decide if telling your secret is worth the risk."

Quivering, Wendy whispered, "I can't lose my family. They're my life. After my sister's death I spent years hiding. I buried myself in my work. I had no personal life. I came home from work and locked the door keeping everyone and everything outside. I had lost enough and caused enough pain; I never wanted to be vulnerable again."

Drawn to the desperation flickering in Wendy's eyes, Grissom leaned in and curiously asked, "After everything you went through, what made you take a chance back then?" Maybe, if she remembered, she could use the same reasoning to take one today. Maybe if she told him he could use the same reasoning to eventually take one himself.

A nostalgic grin burst through Wendy's sadness. "It didn't happen overnight and it wouldn't have happened at all if it weren't for my husband's persistence. My husband…well at the time he was my co-worker. We worked nights at UC Davis Medical Center in Sacramento. I was a nurse in the burn unit. Paul was a security guard…"

"Sorry to interrupt." Catherine walked over to the table. "I'm all done in the bedroom and everything is packed up." She assumed Grissom's irritated scowl meant he was having no luck on the exhumation paperwork. "I'm heading back to the lab to get started."

Before Grissom could reply, the back door of the house flew open and a man wearing a suit rushed in. "Wendy!"

"Paul!" Wendy jumped out of her chair.

Frantically the breathless man eyed his wife. "You're okay." Rushing over, he threw his arms around her and closed his eyes. "Thank God you're not hurt."

"I'm fine…just very emotional." Relaxing into her husband's loving embrace she suddenly felt foolish for worrying about his reaction to her dark secrets. After all, it was his patient and compassionate heart that allowed her to take a risk on love years ago and she was certain that same patient and compassionate heart would be there if she took the risk Mr. Grissom was requesting.

Catherine and Grissom watched the emotional scene with longing…she longing for what she used to have and missed, and he longing for what he never had and desperately wanted.

Paul clung to his wife. "Linda called my cell and told me you dropped off the kids hours ago and then when I was parking, the neighbor said the police were here. What's going on?" His attention turning to the strangers in the room, he frantically asked, "Who are these people?"

Grissom stood up next to Catherine. "I'm Gil Grissom and this is Catherine Willows, we're from the Crime Lab. We were talking to your wife about a cold case." Not wanting to alarm the distraught man or put Wendy in a tough spot, he added, "We're questioning a lot people who were students at UNLV in 1981. Your wife is not in any trouble we were hoping she could help us but I'm not sure she can." Pleading with his eyes he hoped she'd change her mind.

"Mr. Grissom." Wendy slipped out of her husband's heartfelt hug and picked up the pen lying on the table. "Unlike the first time, I know I'll have the support I need. I also know I can trust you to handle my sister's body with the utmost respect." Confidently she signed the paper. Then, after momentarily glancing at her husband she turned back and said, "I'll finally be able to bring my sister the justice she deserves." Handingover the paperwork she quietly asked, "Now if you'll excuse us, I have a lot of blanks to fill in for my very confused husband."

"Certainly." Catherine replied before heading for the back door.

Grissom took the paperwork. "Thank you."

Wendy shook her head. "No." Smiling through a fresh string of tears she whispered, "Thank _you_."

As he reached the door, Grissom looked back at the couple walking arm in arm toward the living room. Still curious about Wendy's story and how Paul finally got her to risk her heart, he sighed. Then again, did the details of the story really matter when the ending was so clear?

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Standing in front of his open locker, Warrick removed his jacket and mentally readied himself for his shift.

"There you are." Catherine rushed over with Grissom on her heels. "Do you have any idea where Sara went on vacation?"

Hanging up the jacket, he quizzically replied, "She's on vacation? I thought you told me she got suspended." Closing his locker, he groaned. "Why am I always two steps behind around here lately? What else don't I know?"

Upon entering the locker room Nick joked, "Hey, no one told me we're having a staff meeting."

"Nick!" Catherine glared at him. "Why the hell haven't you returned my messages?"

With a smirk he boasted, "I turned my cell off because I didn't want to be disturbed while I was occupied. Second date with..."

With Nick in his sights, Grissom flared. "Where is Sara?! I need to know where she is right now!"

Shocked at the tone and content of the question Nick flippantly pushed back. "How should I know? She's suspended."

Stepping closer Grissom snapped. "She was last seen getting into a truck with a guy who matches Mike Rodgers description. Do you know if they are together?!"

Deciding he was quite behind on the happenings of late, Warrick faded to the corner of the room anxious to see how the unexpected drama would play out.

The audacity of Grissom's question floored Nick. Finally Sara gets a life with a guy who is grateful to have her around and Grissom wants to bud in and ruin it. Boss or not, Nick decided he wasn't going to let it happen. Folding his arms across his chest he stood his ground on behalf of Sara. "Yeah, I know where they went but with all due respect, I don't see why that's any of your business."

Ready to shake the information out of him, Grissom roared, "Tell me, **_now_**!"

The two men were toe to toe when Catherine stepped in, separating them. "Let's calm down." Facing Grissom, she explained, "Remember, Nick doesn't know the whole story. He thinks you're asking for a different reason. He's _protecting_ Sara. If we get him up to speed I'm sure he'll tell us what he knows."

It never dawned on Grissom that Nick was protecting Sara. Staring at Nick, he wondered, from what was he trying to protect her? Or from whom?

Catherine took a seat on a bench inviting Nick to join her. "I have no hidden agendas. What I am about to say is based on evidence. It will sound crazy but you have to trust me. Okay?"

From the corner of the room Warrick focused on Catherine and her ability to mediate the tense situation. It made no sense that she could manage Grissom and Nick so well but fail miserably with Lindsay.

Unsure of what was coming next, Nick finally replied. "Okay."

Confident that Nick would objectively listen, she began. "Mike isn't who he seems to be. His wife didn't die from breast cancer, she drown after sustaining a head injury while boating with Mike. Twenty plus years ago Mike had a girlfriend who died from a head injury sustained while hiking with him. Pretty big coincidences…"

"Whoa! Whoa! Wait a minute!" Incredulous, Nick asked, "Are you saying you think Mike killed them? Sometimes you have to look beyond coincidences and consider the character of the man, Catherine. Isn't that what you did once, when it looked bad for me? Mike's a good cop and a great guy."

"Hear me out." When he relaxed she continued. "We can't prove anything about Mike's wife's death but we can prove he killed his girlfriend. Grissom and I just returned from talking to the girlfriend's sister, Wendy. Wendy told us that Mike bragged to her about the murder."

"Why the hell did she wait this long to accuse him?"

Catherine had her answer ready. "Wendy never told anyone because she was terrified of Mike." Pulling the exhumation paperwork out of her jacket sheshowed it to him. "Look...Wendy gave us permission to exhume the body. We have a jacket with blood spatter that contradicts Mike's story as written in the police report. Once we examine the body we'll know for sure."

Leaning against a locker, Grissom angrily added, "Aren't you going to tell him _why_ Wendy was terrified…" Focusing his glare on Nick, he continued. "She was terrified because Rodgers had once overpowered and _raped_ her while she was walking across campus. That was before_ killing _her sister in cold blood and before _bragging _about it like the sociopath he most certainly is. That same _sociopathic rapist and murderer_ is with Sara, so **_now_** will you tell us where they are?!"

Catherine left the bench and stood next to Grissom. "I know you're upset but this isn't helping. Nick isn't to blame; he's just another victim of Mike's deception. He cares about Sara. He never would have set her up if he thought Mike was anything but a great guy."

His voice cracking, Nick said, "I pushed her to go out with him. I can't believe…"

Catherine whipped around. "Stop! Stop it both of you! We have no time for anger or guilt. Tell us what you know, Nick."

After composing himself with a deep breath, Nick answered. "All Sara told me was they were going to Tahoe …as friends…separate rooms. She stressed they would be doing a lot of outdoor activities. No specifics on which part of Tahoe or where they were staying. Just Tahoe."

Grissom, still fuming, snapped, "Outdoor activities like boating and hiking."

Warrick, desperate to pitch in, finally had something to add. "Obviously I don't have all the details but from the little I heard, it doesn't sound like Mike's MO to kill someone he's not already in a relationship with. If he and Sara went away as friends then my guess is the purpose of the trip for _him, _is to change her mind and establish an intimate relationship, not to kill her. Don't get me wrong, the scenario disgusts me but it's a hell of a lot better than the alternative."

Grateful to have Warrick's rational voice in the room, Catherine beamed with hope. "That's an excellent point."

Grissom countered. "And if Sara doesn't go along with the plan? Does Mike's MO change or does he move to another target? We know he kills people he's in relationships with and makes their deaths look like accidents. We also know when Wendy didn't cooperate he used physical force to get what he wanted. We have no idea how he spent the twenty-three years in between his girlfriend and his wife's death which means we really don't know what he's capable of, so as much as I want to believe Sara's not in imminent danger, I suggest we assume she is and find her as soon as possible."

Agreeing with the pessimistic assessment, they nodded.

Forcing himself deeper into work mode, Grissom gave the orders. "Catherine, you work the evidence from the Hatcher case. Make sure Greg knows his top priority is the DNA analysis from the blood on the jacket. Work with Brass on getting a warrant when you have enough information. And find some time to get the exhumation paperwork rolling."

"On my way." Relieved to see her boss' familiar business demeanor, Catherine rushed out of the room.

"Warrick, while we work this I'm going to need you to manage the shift which includes running interference with Ecklie if needed."

"You know I've always got your back, Gris."

The supportive comment meant a lot and Grissom took a moment to show it. "Thank you for that. Let's hope it's a quiet night in the city. Unless you have to go in the field, help wherever is needed. I trust your judgment."

Nick nervously waited for his turn. "What do you want me to do? I'll do anything."

Keeping a professional tone, Grissom replied, "first you're going to check with the boys at the station and see if Mike mentioned where in Tahoe he would be staying. We know he likes bragging so maybe he bragged about going away with Sara. If that doesn't pan out, you start dialing and you don't stop until you find her."

"I'll find her." Nick rose to his feet seething with anger. "And then I'll find him. And if he's hurt her I'll swear to God I'll …"

"Nick." Grissom held up his hand. "Let's not go there right now. Agreed?"

"Yeah." Huffing, Nick left the room uncertain whether he could be trusted to keep his promise.

Turning to Warrick, Grissom informed him in confidence, "I'm going to try and find Sara's credit card numbers so I can check if there's been an activity."

Raising a brow, Warrick inquired, "Not legally I presume."

"Disappointed in me?"

Without missing a beat, Warrick shook his head and replied, "No. Relieved to know you're human like the rest of us." Placing a hand on his boss's shoulder, he confidently said, "Don't worry. Sara will be okay when we find her and we'll find her soon."

Nodding, Grissom replied, "That's what I keep telling myself."

* * *

After waking from her cat nap, Sara checked the clock radio on the hotel nightstand. It was ten p.m., five hours since she had snuggled under the sheets. 

Feeling refreshed she decided to make the phone call she had been putting off. Swinging her legs out of bed, she pattered over to the desk, flipped open her Daytimer and plopped in the chair. Since her cell phone wasn't working she took out her calling card and reached for the hotel phone, carefully punching in the plethora of numbers.

While the phone was ringing she fought the urge to hang up and remain in her static state. When the ring morphed into a voice mail message she guided the receiver toward the base, stopping just before hanging up. Returning the phone to her ear she told herself it was the right thing to do. "David. It's Sara Sidle. I'm uh…following up on that offer you made me a few months ago…about the CSI 4. I know that offer is no longer on the table but I'm getting tired of the desert and realize now I should have taken it. I'm missing the bay area and I'm going to return to Berkeley to finish my Ph.D. so I was wondering…is there anything open on your team or somewhere else in the lab? I'm on vacation right now but you can reach me at the Lakeshore Resort. The number is 1-800-555-6423. I'm in room 316. I look forward to hearing from you. Bye."

Hanging up the phone she slumped down in the chair. San Francisco would be a u-turn instead of a totally new direction but it was change and any change had to help. Sure, the tough cases would still be there but maybe a fresh locale and a return to school would keep her mind occupied enough not to get mired down in the stress of it all.

At her last session, her P.E.A.P. Counselor suggested that a change in career might help. She told him it wasn't an option. The job was a part of her and she couldn't imagine a life without it. She assured the counselor the _job_ wasn't her problem, it was the lack of balance in her life. All that empathy pouring out of her for years had never been replenished, leaving her drained. It didn't help that when she started the job nine years ago, she was already minus twenty-five years of empathy.

Still, she was certain it wasn't the giving that needed to stop, she just needed someone who could give back…and obviously the victims weren't capable so she needed to find an outside source. Someone who could appreciate her work and instinctively know why sometimes at the end of a tough case she needed a little empathy of her own. She needed a soft place to fall; eyes that said _I know_ and arms that reassured her. That place…those eyes…those arms…were things she never experienced as a child or a teen and always hoped she'd find as an adult.

From the moment she met him, Grissom was a logical choice. They had instant rapport at Berkeley and from his lectures she knew he understood the job and its purpose better than anyone. Intellectually he was a perfect match…no danger of him laughing at her for being a science nerd or under appreciating her intelligence.

Shortly after arriving in Vegas, as she got to know him better, she realized Grissom was not the empathetic type. In fact, he rarely emoted at all unless he spoke of bugs. So unless she could magically transform into a beetle, there was little hope of finding a soul mate in Grissom. He was an enigma and she had too many of her own problems to solve to spend any time figuring him out…_if_ there was anything to figure out. Unlike her, maybe he had no secrets or hidden desires. Maybe he wasn't a mystery at all. Maybe all you saw was all there was.

But one night, in a split second, her opinion changed.

In movies a telling moment is usually set in a romantic place with the leads dressed to the nines and a perfect musical score lilting in the background. Not so in reality and certainly not in the reality of a crime scene investigation. When the moment happened they were wearing filthy Crime Lab coveralls, standing in a parking lot surrounded by chirping crickets.

It was a little after two a.m. when she noticed Grissom hurrying away from the scene. Concerned, she followed him out of Stu Evans's apartment. Pacing the parking lot, he told her he was angry that they were wasting their time tearing the place apart searching for a body, while the killer who knew exactly where it was, watched.

As a concerned friend she suggested they take a walk around the block so he could clear his head. He politely declined not once but twice. Searching his eyes however, she noted an emotional reaction to her warmth. Was it vulnerability?

She watched him close his eyes and lower his head as if his momentary slip was a shameful thing that should be hidden from her. Too late though because the glimpse was enough to stir her lonely soul and without thinking she reached out and caressed his cheek.

When his eyes flew open it was obvious that the intimacy of her move was more than he could handle so she retreated, explaining that she was merely wiping plaster off his face but they both knew there was no plaster there. Once again their eyes met and the mysterious look returned. A connection was made and in an instant, she knew deep down, he needed a soft place to fall too. Alas, no words clarified their feelings that night.

Sitting in her hotel room looking back on the moment, she realized how symbolic it was that the first crack she ever saw in Grissom's emotional wall was the night they were breaking down real ones.

As dramatic as it seemed at the time, moments are fleeting and that one wasn't any different. Instead of celebrating the end of the Evans case with her, Grissom chose to eat breakfast in the company of Silphid Beetle. Clearly not how it would have turned out if it had been a movie.

It was nearly a year before she saw that look from him again and it didn't stick around any longer than the first time. Yearly increments of hope were no longer enough to sustain a tired thirty-four year old soul still looking for her first soft place to land.

All that time she waited, the empathy for others kept pouring out of her without replenishing so it was really no surprise when she bottomed out this summer. And when she did…who came to her rescue? Grissom. And in doing so he renewed her hope and started the cycle again.

When she told the story to her counselor he said he knew a quote that she needed to hear, which she thought was funny since tossing out a quote was a very Grissom thing to do. The counselor suggested she get a book called Self Matters written by a famous TV Psychologist, Dr. Phil. He told her that Dr. Phil always says that _the definition of insanity is repeating the same behaviors over and over and expecting different outcomes_.

He also informed her, until she was willing to get real and explore her own issues nothing would ever be resolved. Grissom wasn't her problem, he was her enabler. While she was busy wondering about him she avoided wondering about herself.

At her last mandatory counseling session, he told her if she didn't want to waste her time reading the book he could prescribe something while she worked through her issues in therapy, which Sara thought was odd since medication, in the form of alcohol, was exactly what sent her to weeks of mandatory counseling in the first place.

Following none of the counselor's advice, she declined the prescription and passed by the self-help section at Barnes and Noble opting for the more comfortable mystery aisle. Agatha Christie, not Dr. Phil, went home with her that day. Two weeks later she was crying on Grissom's doorstep, saying goodbye to a relationship that never really had a proper welcome.

But all was not lost because closure on the Grissom issue was achieved and here she was in Tahoe, away from her enabler, doing things differently, making new and exciting decisions, wondering about her future and expecting different outcomes. Whoever Dr. Phil was she was certain he'd be proud.

Heading back to San Francisco would be a step forward, she was certain of it. And who knows, maybe being closer to her childhood home might facilitate some progress on the family issues she'd locked away many years ago.

Deciding she had reached her introspective limit for the night, Sara headed for the balcony to get some air. When she slid open the door and stepped on the wooden deck a cool breeze washed over her. It was a gorgeous night, the reflections of the stars danced on the lake below while waves peacefully crested upon the shore. Everything seemed right with the world and she knew tomorrow would be another changing day in her life.

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Considering it was only three a.m., Grissom felt certain that Roxie Delecroix, Sara's noisy neighbor would still be out on the town and wouldn't see him. Standing in front of Sara's door he pulled the pick out of his jacket pocket. A moment later the door knob turned and he slipped inside.

Since he had no luck finding any credit card information for Sara at work and Nick had no luck at the station finding out where Rodgers had gone, breaking and entering was a necessary short cut...albeit highly intrusive, not to mention criminal.

Deciding a flashlight would appear too suspect to an outsider, he flipped on the lights, illuminating the unfamiliar apartment. How odd was it that he had known Sara for so many years but had never stepped foot in her home. The closest he had ever gotten was earlier this year when he brought her here after her DUI. But that night she was embarrassed and in no mood for company so they parted ways in the parking lot.

Grissom's eyes soaked in the atmosphere…the soothing earth tones on the walls, the inviting overstuffed furniture and the silky wheat-colored curtains softly draping the windows. Taking one step into the main room he continued acquainting himself with the surroundings while working up the nerve to venture further. Minutes later, the sound of a turning doorknob startled him.

"It's Catherine, let me in."

After exhaling the trapped air in his lungs he turned around and opened the door. "What are you doing here?" Quickly he pulled her inside and closed the door once more.

Smiling, she replied, "I decided you needed a partner in crime. All my tasks are done. I'm just waiting for Greg's results so I can call Brass and give him the green light on the warrant." Glancing around she remarked, "It's no surprise that the place is perfectly organized but…WOW! Who knew Sara had such a warm, feminine side?" Drawn to the center of the room she ran her hands over the velvety sage sofa. "I'm guessing when we run her credit card we'll find more than a few Pottery Barn charges. Have you found the numbers yet?"

Following her he explained, "I only arrived shortly before you did and..."

Patting him on the shoulder she whispered, "I know you didn't want anyone else breaking the law but I figured this would be a little difficult for you."

She was right. He was grateful.

Winking Catherine announced, "I'll take the bedroom, you stay out here."

"Thank you." Suddenly feeling more comfortable about the endeavor he walked over to the computer desk in the corner of the room.

The first thing to catch his eye was a birthday card sitting on top of a small pile of correspondence. _From the Gang_ was spelled out in red bubble letters and when he opened it he saw the signatures of his team mates sprawled over the inside.

Moving the team card aside he saw another, more formal card. When opened, it revealed a simple birthday message from Sara's dentist.

Another birthday greeting, in postcard form, lie beneath. It was from her insurance agent. On the back was a message reminding Sara, now that another year had passed, she may want to consider adding a life insurance policy.

Three cards and only one personal. He understood even better why she was upset that he didn't acknowledge the day. More than anything, he had let her down as a friend.

Pushing forward, he went through the rest of the pile, an oil change coupon, a menu from a new pizzeria, a trial membership offer to a local gym and the latest Pottery Barn catalog…all of no help.

Moving through the four small drawers of the desk, he found a lot of neatly organized office supplies but no information.

When he looked under the desk he saw an empty paper shredder. Sara was nothing if she wasn't paranoid, be it germs or identity theft she was always one step ahead. Thinking the shredder was recently emptied he went to the kitchen in search of the trash.

Much to his disappointment, the shiny stainless steel can contained only a fresh trash bag.

Spying an answering machine on the counter he checked the display. One message on the caller ID, the one he had left her. It hadn't been picked up. For a moment he was relieved to know Sara hadn't retrieved the message. She wasn't avoiding him. Then a scarier scenario crept in his mind…Sara couldn't retrieve the message because she was incapacitated or worse.

Desperate to erase the worrisome thought, he performed a detailed inventory of the kitchen cabinets and fridge.The search revealed nothing except Sara's lack of cooking supplies and healthy food.

Catherine's voice boomed into the room. "Find anything yet?"

"No." Leaning against the counter, he groaned. "What about you?"

"Just the other half of the Pottery Barn catalog." Falling prey to her coping mechanism…humor; she added, "Oh and her diary which of course was all about you. Wow! Who knew Sara had such an active imagination!" Instantly feeling bad she groveled. "Sorry. This isn't the time for jokes. Humor is my way of coping, not yours." Rolling her eyes she moaned, "I feel like an ass."

Walking over to the hall closet he shot her a look. "Find a credit card number and I'll forgive you."

Catherine moved over to the wall of bookcases. "You know...if you and Sara ever joined forces you could open a university library."

The hall closet was another dead end so he joined Catherine in front of the shelves. "Hmmm…do you think she keeps her personal information tucked away in a book?" There had to be three hundred minimum. "A thief would never spend his time going through this collection that's for sure."

Shaking her head, she sighed. "Maybe she does, because there are no signs of anything personal in the bedroom or anywhere else for that matter. No photos, no family stuff, no signs of visitors, nothing." Cocking her head at him she sweetly said, "Reminds me of your place…minus the bugs."

Taking a new look at the room he realized Catherine was right. Although decorated differently, Sara's place was exactly the same. Pulling a book from the first shelf he suggested, "I'll start on the right, you take the left."

Turning to her friend, Catherine curiously asked, "Speaking of your place, where do you keep your personal stuff? I mean you have to have some stuff."

Without taking his eyes off the shelves, he answered, "I keep all my financial information locked in a box in the cabinet behind my desk."

"I didn't mean financial information." Grabbing the next book she clarified. "I mean pictures…stuff…you know signs that you were actually born human and had a life before Vegas. I mean sometimes it feels like you landed on the planet and walked into the crime lab. There are so many blanks…"

"And you want to fill them."

"I don't need to fill them. I want to understand why they are there."

Flipping through the next book he quietly asked, "Why?"

With every book, Catherine's search intensified. "Because you are my closest friend and I know almost nothing about you, while you know everything about me."

"You volunteer information."

"And you hide everything."

Glancing over he retorted, "They're both valid choices."

"UGH!" Catherine reached for another book. "This is insanity. Why do I even bother to still initiate this conversation after all these years? There's never a different outcome." In her haste, the Forensic Psychology textbook she was holding slipped through her fingers and crashed to the floor. "Damn it!" When she picked it by the front cover, a photograph fell at her feet. "Well now we know Sara isn't a pod person. I found a family photo." Scooping up the picture she studied it carefully and then flipped it over. "1979. So she would be nine. Hmm…that's interesting. I thought…"

Grissom's curiosity getting the best of him and he reached out. "Let me see."

"No!" With dramatic flair, Catherine tucked the photo in the book and shoved it back on the shelf. "That's what a blank feels like." Shooting him a hard look she sniped, "Deal with it."

* * *

Holding a list of Tahoe hotel and motel numbers in one hand and his cell phone in the other, Nick rushed into the DNA lab. "Greg, I mean it, what the hell is taking so long?" 

"You aren't serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Peeved, Greg stuffed his hands on his hips. "Like I told you twenty minutes ago, I'm doing my best. So far tonight I've had Catherine march in here and order me to drop everything to process this cold case. Of course I think she's crazy, but when I ask Grissom about it he bites my head off and tells me not to speak to him again until I have the DNA results Catherine requested. Now you won't get off my back about them."

On edge about Sara, the last thing Nick needed tonight was one of Greg's diatribes about not being part of the team. "Calm down, man."

Hopping mad, Greg spouted off. "Am I part of the team or am I just a lackey? Just because I failed a proficiency doesn't mean I'm stuck in here forever you know. You guys use me and you won't respect me until I'm a CSI."

Nick barked in Greg's face. "Look, I'm having a crappy night so shut the hell up and give me my results."

Conrad Ecklie interrupted the drama. "It's bad enough I have to be here at this awful hour but now I have to listen to this." Eyeing Nick suspiciously he sneered, "What has you so worked up?" Ever since the Kristy Hopkins scandal, he lost all respect for Nick Stokes, not that he had much to begin with. "Leave your DNA at another crime scene?"

Nick's eyes narrowed on the new target of his anger. _Shove that accusation up your ass you son of a bitch. _

"I'm still waiting for an answer, Stokes."

Afraid of jeopardizing the mission to find Sara, Nick mustered the fortitude to control his primal urge to pound Ecklie into the ground. Instead, with a kiss-my-ass-smile, he replied, "No, Sir. The only DNA I left anywhere tonight is in a snot-filled tissue in the break room trash can. Would you like to examine it? I'd be happy to retrieve it for you." _Or how about I stuff your head down there so you can get it yourself?_

Turning to Greg Sanders, Ecklie probed deeper. "I want to see what you're working on for Mr. Stokes." Hopefully it would be something incriminating and a nice addition to the 'Nail Grissom' file he was keeping.

"Certainly, Sir." Walking behind the lab table Greg grabbed a folder. "I have Nick's case information right here."

Nick lowered his head. It was bad enough that Grissom wanted to kill him for introducing Sara to Mike but now, because of his hot headedness in the lab, Ecklie was going to find out what they were secretly doing.

Handing the folder to Ecklie, Greg said, "Epithelials found at the scene of a break-in on Barclay Street."

As he opened the file, Ecklie's pager went off. "Damn it, what now? Can't anyone do their job around here?!" Shoving the folder back at Greg, Ecklie hurried out of the room.

Grinning, Nick put his arm around Greg. "You are**_ so_** part of the team, Greggo. I owe you a beer, my friend."

"I think you owe me more than a beer."

Overjoyed, Nick was ready to give anything. "Name your price."

Stepping closer, Greg whispered, "I need a woman."

Cracking up, Nick shook his head. "I can't _give _you a woman and I'm not _paying_ for one either."

Desperation creeping into his voice, Greg pleaded. "Take me with you when you go trolling and toss me one of your throw backs."

"Damn, Sanders…how long has it been?"

Inching even closer, Greg confessed. "Let's just say Grissom didn't have a beard."

After doing the math, Nick gasped. "How is that possible? This is Vegas, Greg. Do you eat a clove of garlic and forget to shower before you go out?"

* * *

When Grissom opened one of Sara's Theoretical Physics texts her Berkeley student ID fell out. Knowing Theoretical Physics was Sara's major at Berkeley he got an idea. "Catherine…" 

"What?"

"You found the family photo in a Psychology text, right?"

"Don't even think about it." She knew the curiosity had to be killing him and wondered, if given the opportunity would he sneak a peek at Sara's childhood photo.

Scanning the shelves Grissom looked for the closest thing to a finance book. Selecting _The Wall Street Journal's Guide to Personal Finance_, he excitedly flipped it opened. "Search over, Catherine." Holding copies of Sara's recent credit card and bank statements he grinned. "I cracked the code."

"Nice work!" Taking the papers in one hand she flipped open her cell phone with the other. "I'll call them in to Warrick. He can run the search while we head back to the lab."

Staring at the wall of books Grissom continued to smile. Leave it to Sara to file away her important personal information in books. Suddenly his attention turned to one book in particular, the Entomologytext he had given Sara years ago.

After pulling the book off the shelf he turned his back to Catherine. Smiling, he cracked it open. When he did, he sawa bookmark tucked in the middle…what appeared to be a small envelope. Noticing a card in the envelope, he threw on his glasses.

Glancing over his shoulder he considered Catherine's whereabouts before proceeding to slide out the card. When he did, he was surprised to see the words _From Grissom_ centered on the card. Thinking back, he didn't recall a card being on the book when he gave it to her. Then it hit him. It was the card that accompanied the plant he sent her after their squabble over cleaning up from the meat experiment.

From behind Catherine teasingly said, "I can tell by your body language that you're sneaking a peek at something."

Calmly he turned around and displayed the text while hiding the card. "Just a bug book."

"Ugh!" She shook her head. "I give you the opportunity to steal a look at Sara's family photo and instead you waste the time looking at a bug book." Returning to the bedroom she grumbled, "I'm going to make sure I turned out the light in the bathroom before we head out."

When she was gone he carefully tucked the card back in the envelope and placed it back in the text.

Running his fingertips over the cover of the book, he recalled the day he gave it to Sara.

_Christmas Eve had turned into Christmas Day, Warrick was still out in the field and Catherine and Nick had the night off. So the tedious job of sifting through the contents of a vacuum bag had fallen on Sara lap._

_From the doorway Grissom watched her processing the evidence. Sara's attention to detail and dedication on the job always caught his eye, as did her hair when she wore it pulled back at the neck like she was wearing it now. Every time she pulled back her hair a piece would eventually work its way loose and frame one side of her face. On several occasions he actually had to fight the urge to brush the errant lock off her cheek and find out if her skin felt as soft as it looked. _

_"Grissom?" Sara called out from across the room. _

_Lost in thought he hadn't noticed her notice him. _

_Hands behind his back, Grissom walked into the room, taking a seat beside her at the table. "How's it going?" _

_Sara cracked a glinty smile. "Dustiest job I'll ever love."_

_Laughing with her, he said, "Well if you can pull yourself away I have something else for you to do."_

_"Anything." Snapping off her gloves, she eagerly awaited her next assignment._

_From behind his back Grissom produced a Christmas gift. "Open this."_

_Sara took the text book sized package wrapped in red foil in her hands. "You didn't have to get me a gift."_

_From the look on her face he could tell she was shocked at the gesture. "It's just a little something I thought you might like." _

_"I'm sure I will." Opening the package she grinned uncontrollably. "An Entomology text." _

_Beaming he explained, "You showed such an interest when we were working on the Shelton case I thought you might like a little more information." The mention of the Shelton case stirred the memory of her showing up to wrap a blanket around his shoulders and bring him coffee. Bug experiments always thrilled him but that night his enjoyment soared to a new level. _

_"Thank you. I love it." Cracking open the book Sara inspected the Table of Contents. _

_Pleased by her interest, Grissom added, "If you have any questions I'll be happy to answer them. Anytime." _

_Still grinning, Sara softly replied, "I'm sure I will have a lot of questions." _

_"I think you'll really enjoy..." In mid sentence he saw the lock of hair tumble down onto her cheek and the familiar urge appeared. _

_"Grissom?" _

_"Sorry...I got distracted...thinking about the Lopez case." _

_"Oh." _

_Retreating, Grissom stood and pushed his stool under the table. "I need to go run some figures while the information is fresh in my head."_

_"Sure." Holding up the book Sara smiled. "Thanks again for the present." _

_"You're welcome." When he reached the door, he called back. "Sara..." _

_"Yes?" _

_Suddenly realizing his discomfort, he asked, "Could you do me a favor and not mention the gift to anyone else." _

_"Um...sure. Why?" _

_Struggling he replied, "Because...well I didn't get anyone else a present and I wouldn't want them to know I treat you special...I mean I wouldn't want them to **think **I treat you special...because I don't. I treat all of my CSIs the same...except you...sometimes." The slip stunned him and he didn't know what to do with the revelation. _

_Smiling Sara crumpled the gift paper and tossed it in the trash. "What gift? Leaving her stool with the book under her arm she sweetly said, "I'm taking a break. If you need me I'll be in the break room reading this new Entomology book I bought yesterday."_

"Grissom!" Catherine snatched the bug book and shoved it back into the open spot on the shelf. "Honestly, how can you read at a time like this?! Let's go!" Huffing, she hurried out the door while wondering how he could go from obsessing over Sara to obsessing over bugs in a matter of minutes. "Don't forget to lock up."

"I won't."From the door, he glanced across the room at the book. It was the first and last present he ever gave Sara. The plant didn't count because it was a peace offering not a gift. Four years and only two gestures and she kept a reminder of both on her shelf. What did that say about her?

Four years and only two gestures, he knew what that said about him.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Upon returning to the station, Grissom made a bee line for the lab to see if Sara's credit card search turned up anything.

Before Grissom could ask, Warrick announced, "Still waiting on the report."

From the opposite end of the room, Nick followed with his update. "Greg has his nose to the grindstone and should have something for us in an hour. I've called every hotel on the Nevada side and now I'm working down the California list. Warrick has all the motels. Next we'll try cabins. Problem is there are also timeshare and condo rentals. Some are advertised some aren't. So let's hope the credit card pans out."

Grissom checked his watch. "I'll be in my office making flight arrangements. Come to me the second you have anything"

"You got it, boss." Nick affirmed as Grissom hurried out of the lab.

Minutes later Catherine walked in and took a seat next to Warrick who was hanging up from his latest disappointing phone call. "No luck, huh." From across the room she could hear Nick wasn't having any either.

"Nick and I have been dialing since you left and haven't found where they are staying. There are so many options; it's a needle in a haystack." Turning his attention toward Catherine, he said, "That was a nice thing you did, helping Grissom out at Sara's. It would have been rough for him to do it alone."

"Yeah." Running her fingers through her hair she released a labored sigh. "I just want everything back to normal around here."

"You okay?"

Flipping her hair off her shoulder, she faked optimism. "You know me…I'll keep plucking."

Seeing the truth in her eyes and the exhaustion in her body language, Warrick decided she could use a little relaxation. Standing up, he moved behind her and dropped his hands onto her shoulders. "Problem is…you're carrying all your tension right here." Under the red cotton of her fitted shirt, he could feel the knots. "Let's see if I can help."

Nick, on the phone with the Mountain View Resort, couldn't help but notice the tender moment occurring on the other side of the room.

As Catherine's eyes fluttered shut she purred with delight. The men she had dated recently lacked both the skill and the inclination to indulge her in such one-sided pleasure. "Oooh…don't stop."

Rubbing deeper, Warrick reassured her, "I can go as long as you need me."

The spa Catherine frequented charged $80 and hour for a massage, but this one from Warrick, she quickly deemed priceless. "Right there. Yes!" Catherine felt every muscle in her body release. "Oh…"

"There you go," Warrick whispered as Catherine's knots disappeared beneath his fingertips. From the euphoric look on her face he could tell she was in the zone. "I bet that feels better."

"Oh yeah." She always knew human touch was therapeutic but right now, Warrick's touch was bordering on spiritual.

Before punching in the next hotel phone number, Nick opted to relieve a little of his, _'I set Sara up with a Murderer'_ guilt-induced tension, with a joke. "Hey! After the two of you leave I'm shining the ALS over there and I better not find anything."

Grateful for the momentary respite from the Mike and Sara trauma consuming them all, the three pals shared a hearty laugh.

A laugh unfortunately cut short by Ecklie's appearance in the doorway. Catching Warrick removing his hands from Catherine's shoulders, Ecklie snipped, "Don't you think it's a little unprofessional to be giving back rubs in the lab? Is this the kind of stuff Grissom allows to go on around here?"

Catherine, pissed that Ecklie interrupted her bliss, but always focused on being politically savvy, calmly replied, "Actually Warrick was saving the county some money. You see, I have this thing with my neck and I'm supposed to go to physical therapy but that would require me to take off from work and use my insurance benefit. Before Warrick was a CSI hehad some training as a massage therapist. He takes care of my problem for free and I don't even have to stop working."

Holding up a random piece of paper, she flashed a brilliant smile. "I can proof my reports and get cured without spending a dime of taxpayer money. But if you prefer, I'll use paid leave and…"

Unsure how to respond, Ecklie disappeared down the hall.

Nick started clapping. "That was such beautiful bullshit, Catherine."

"Aww…thank you, Nicky." Facing Warrick, she winked. "Thanks for the rub down. I owe you one." Revitalized both physically and mentally, she was ready to go for at least another twelve hours. At the door, she announced, "I'll be with Brass finalizing the warrant."

Punching in the next phone number, Nick shouted over to Warrick. "Sounds like you have a marker to collect on in the future."

Picking up the phone, Warrick sighed. The unexpected interlude with Catherine had been a pleasant diversion from the task at hand but now his focused shifted. "Can't think about that right now." Checking his phone list he noted where he left off.

"I know what you mean, man." Until Sara was safe none of them could consider the future. When the hotel desk clerk answered the phone, Nick hoped they'd get lucky. "Yes, could you ring Sara Sidle's room for me, that's Sidle, s..i..d..l..e. No listing? How about Mike Rodgers? No listing for him either." Disappointed again, he sighed, "Okay, thanks."

* * *

Walking through Grissom's open door, Ecklie excitedly announced, "Gil, I think I know what happened to Sidle's missing vile of GHB!" 

For the first time _ever_ Grissom was ecstatic to see Ecklie. "What happened to it?"

"I think your staff is sharing it. I just came from the lab and Warrick Brown was giving Catherine Willows a neck rub while she giggled like a school girl." Pleased that Grissom fell for the ruse, he grinned uncontrollably. "Very unprofessional behavior, don't you think?"

Ticked that he could actually believe Ecklie would be helpful, Grissom snapped, "And I suppose joking about missing evidence is the pinnacle of professionalism."

"You're so moody, Gil. Would it have anything to do with your temporary reduction in staff?" When Grissom ignore him he needled, "Maybe you're hitting the wall? Just say the word and I'll get the retirement paperwork going. I've got six guys to replace you."

Picking up on Ecklie's verbal error, Grissom warmly replied, "How flattering. You think it would take six guys to replace me. I guess I better keep my job because the county doesn't have that kind of money in the budget." Once again he buried his head in paperwork hoping the pest would buzz off without snooping any further.

Infuriated with his mistake, Ecklie roared, "I don't have time to chat, I've got important work to do."

Without looking up, Grissom replied, "By all means go do it because we don't want the lab to fall apart." When he finally checked he was relieved to see the office empty. Knowing how the perfect quote for the occasion he said, "A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool."

Pleased he wouldn't be seeing Ecklie return for a while, Grissom reached over and pulled the flight confirmations from his printer…one for Catherine, Jim and himself. All they needed was the warrant and they'd be good to go.

Refusing to consider any other reality, Grissom soothed himself with one looping thought...._Soon they would be in Tahoe and it was only a matter of time until Sara would be out of danger and everything could return to normal. Soon..._

_

* * *

_Catherine impatiently watched Brass review the warrant paperwork. "So if some of the blood on the jacket doesn't belong to the girl, then do you think the warrant will be strong enough?" 

"Yeah, I think it will hold. Combined with the statement I got from Wendy Blake."

"Do you believe her story?"

"I do."

"You don't think there's any chance she's accusing Mike of murder because of the rape? Or maybe the rape never happened and she was just jealous that Mike picked her sister over her and wants revenge so she is making everything up?"

"Grissom went to her, she didn't come to us." Settling back in his chair Brass added, "Wendy Blake has a sweet life…husband, two kids, nice house, dogs. Why would she want to muck that up by lying about something that happened over twenty years ago?" Fondly recalling the visit to Wendy's house, he asked, "Did you have any of her banana bread?"

Rolling her eyes, Catherine groaned. "She offered but I couldn't eat after finding out about Mike."

Salivating from the memory, he said, "Too bad because it was better than sex."

Surprised at the comparison she chuckled. "Geez, Jim, how long has it been?"

"Decades!" From the shocked expression on Catherine's face he knew he needed to clarify his statement. "It's been decades since I had homemade banana bread."

"Ah!" That was a relief.

Brass resumed where they left off. "Bottom line…I think Wendy is good people."

Catherine didn't want to believe him. "It's just…if Wendy was lying then Sara wouldn't be on vacation with a murderer, Nick wouldn't be beating himself up over introducing Sara to a murderer, Grissom wouldn't be one step away from losing his mind while pretending he's not and I wouldn't be craving a double, you know?"

Brass gave a sympathetic nod before answering. "Although it would be nice if Wendy was lying, I firmly believe she is telling the truth. I also think she would have taken her secrets to the grave if she hadn't been pushed to tell it. My gut tells me she's not the vindictive type. She worked as a nurse in burn unit. What does that tell you? "

Shrugging she said the first thing that came to mind. "Wendy felt guilty that her sister was murdered so she devoted her time saving others to make up for not saving her sister?"

"Exactly. Wendy's a healer not someone who opens old wounds for spite." He smiled curiously. "Catherine, why do you your job?"

"Because life is a puzzle I've never been able to solve so instead I solve crimes."

"Makes sense to me."

She threw out a new riddle. "So why does a rapist and murderer become a cop?"

"To learn how _not _to get caught."

Their verbal volley halted when Greg knocked on the doorframe and started his own. "Who leaves the toilet seat up?"

As usual, Catherine played along. "A guy."

"Whose DNA did I find on the jacket besides Samantha Hatcher's?"

"A guy's."

Grinning, Greg added, "A guy not in CODIS."

Turning back to Brass Catherine quizzed, "Whose DNA isn't in CODIS?"

"Someone who has never been convicted…like a cop for example." Brass raised a brow. "Mike Rodgers may have learned the tricks of the trade _after_ becoming a cop but he didn't know them when he killed Samantha Hatcher."

Grabbing the DNA results out of Greg's hand Catherine said, "Thank you very much."

Like a schoolboy wanting to join in a playground game Greg asked, "Are you uh…going to tell me what's going on? I just came from Grissom's office and he's still not talking. I think he'll actually harm me if I ask him again."

Greg's puppy dog eyes worked Catherine over until she relented and pulled out a chair. "Have a seat and we'll get you up to speed while we're finishing the warrant."

A grateful smile crested on Greg's face and he plopped into the chair.

"It's about time you get to see how we use your handy work to nail a guy's ass to the wall." Winking she added, "After you pass your next field proficiency you'll be working on these anyway so why not get a preview."

Her vote of confidence was music to his ears. "Thanks, Catherine."

Brass rolled his eyes. "Okay enough…I'm getting a cavity."

* * *

Fired up, Nick burst into Grissom's office, "We got a hit! Sara used her credit card yesterday at Max's Adventure Rentals. It's on the east side of the lake." 

A mixture of hope and fear stirred within Grissom. "Did you call the place? Were the rentals returned? Did they see Sara come back?"

Beaming with delight Nick gave his report. "I spoke with one of the employees and they pulled up the rental record. The record shows the bikes were returned at two o'clock. Sara signed the return receipt." Handing over a fax, Nick said, "I compared the signature on the rental paperwork to Sara's and it's a perfect match so we can be certain she was fine after the ride."

Reviewing the document, Grissom nodded. "Good. That's less than twenty-four hours ago. Very good." Looking up he asked, "Did the employee you spoke with know where she was staying."

"Unfortunately, no. The guy didn't remember overhearing anything about where they were staying."

"Did you ask him how Sara looked? Did she appear nervous or tense?"

"I did." Taking Grissom's feelings into consideration, Nick gave a guarded answer. "He said she seemed a little tired and stiff from the ride but nothing out of the norm considering the difficulty of the trail." He left out several details like the rental guy saying Mike and Sara were _a real cute couple_.

"So no signs of distress?"

"None."

Relief flooded his voice. "That's good. Very good. Um…Catherine is finishing up the warrant and as soon as we have it approved we'll pull Rodgers' credit cards and hopefully learn where they're staying."

"Yeah." Feeling a bit awkward, Nick continued to stand in the doorway. "I'm uh… about before…in the locker room. I shouldn't have been so rude when you asked where Sara was. You caught me off guard and I don't know what I was thinking. I should have known better than to assume I knew the reason you were asking. I'm really sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, Nicky." Removing his glasses Grissom sat back in his chair. "I was the one with the misplaced anger who got in your face. At the time I didn't know why you weren't telling me what I needed to know but I get it now. I understand what you were doing."

Glancing up at the ceiling Nick shook his head. "You know…Sara didn't want to have coffee with Mike. She even asked me to go to the shop and tell him she couldn't make it but I forced her to go. Sara is a great girl. I care about her so much, the last thing I would ever want…"

"We can't turn back time. If we could I…"

"Warrant's done!" Catherine hustled over to Grissom's desk. "Signature please!" She handed him a pen while tossing the paper on the desk. "Judge Romley's clerk knows we're on our way."

Having said his peace, Nick retreated down the hall.

Returning the papers to Catherine, Grissom smiled. "Romley…excellent. He likes you."

"He likes me because I kiss his ass. In case you were wondering, I kiss his ass so when I need a warrant ASAP I'll be sure to get it." Flipping her hair off her shoulder she said, "You're so lucky you have me around to do the schmoozing."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Laughing as she strutted towards the door she replied, "Ahhh…so you're finally admitting you don't know it all."

* * *

At the three mile trail marker, Sara dropped her backpack. "Mike! I'm taking a break." Easing down to the ground she rested against a boulder. This vacation was starting to feel like boot camp and she was craving the routine of the lab. 

Glancing over his shoulder Mike said, "Already? It's only two more miles to the top."

"What, two miles straight up?" Her lungs ready to burst, Sara groaned, "Are you trying to kill me?"

Chuckling he slipped his pack off his shoulders and tossed it next to hers. "Now why would I want to do that?" Sitting down beside her, he flashed a brilliant smile. "I'm having far too much fun to want you gone."

Suddenly aware of Mike's steady gaze, she nervously glanced around pretending to admire the scenery. "This place is really beautiful."

"So are you." Realizing he made her uncomfortable he covered, "Did I just say that out loud?"

Off balance from the compliment, a tense giggle tumbled from her lips and Sara attempted to joke her way out of the situation. "Is it the beads of sweat on my forehead or the disheveled hair that's doing it for you?"

Smooth as silk Mike replied, "It's everything about you." Moving closer he lowered his voice. "I really don't think you know how beautiful you are Sara." Pausing, he studied her eyes. "I know I said you look cute in a lab coat but out here…with the sunlight in your hair and a healthy glow on your cheeks…you're absolutely gorgeous."

Certain the healthy glow on her cheeks he referenced was the bright blush of embarrassment, she squirmed. "I…I don't know what to say."

Locking his eyes on her lips, he softly replied, "You don't have to say anything."

"Wait!" Pulling away before he could kiss her, Sara saw the disappointment on Mike's face. "Sorry. I'm a little confused. We said we were coming as friends and now…"

Shaking off his frustration, he sweetly replied, "Sorry, I thought we were having a moment. I guess you didn't feel it."

Not wanting to hurt his feelings she searched for the right words. "No, it's not you. I'm trying to make some decisions and until I do I can't really start something new." The truth was she wasn't ready to start something new.

"What kind of decisions?"

"Remember the other day when we were sitting on the dock and you said maybe Vegas was where I needed to be for a while but maybe now I needed a change. Well…I made some calls yesterday and I might be making a change…to San Francisco. My old boss called me back this morning and offered me a position. I have a week to think about it."

Chuckling he said, "Why the hell did you listen to me?"

"Because it was good advice!" Past the awkward feeling she smiled back at him. "So that's why I stopped you. I have to decide whether I'm staying or going and I don't want to be influenced by anything."

"Well then I guess I'm flattered." Jumping to his feet he grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder. Next he grabbed her pack. "Stand up and let me help you with this."

Rising, she stood with her back to him. "Wait…why did you say you're flattered?"

After securing her pack in place he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and tauntingly whispered in her ear. "I'm flattered because you're afraid that one kiss from me could make you decide to stay." Allowing his lips to brush the lobe of her ear, he added, "But really, you should be the one who is flattered, because one kiss from you, Sara, and I know I wouldn't want you to leave."

Her affection-starved body betrayed her cautious mind and her occupied heart. "Uh…"

Feeling her quiver, Mike stepped back smirking and switched to a carefree tone. "Okay…it's two miles to the top. Let's go."

"Yeah…I'll uh…be right behind you." Her heart urging her to turn back, she looked down the trail from where she had come. It would be much easier to return than go forward. Lifting her eyes toward the summit, she could only imagine how difficult it would be to press on.

As she stood sideways on the trail, carefully considering her options, a midnight blue butterfly crossed her path. It reminded her of the one she liked at Grissom's and she couldn't take her eyes off it. Fixated on it she tracked it, watching it dart and weave. The elusive creature never stopping long enough to let her fully appreciate its markings.

Before she knew it, the butterfly was gone and she realized she was walking down the trail instead of up. Unsure of how she could have been so distracted near the edge of a cliff, she paused to get her bearings.

"Sara?!"

Mike's voice called out to her but she didn't reply. Moments later he showed up, breathless.

"Why didn't you answer me? I thought something happened to you."

"Sorry." Trying to snap out of her daze, Sara stammered, I…I guess I got turned around."

"We can go back if you're not up to going forward."

"I…uh…" Down the trail she knew what to expect but up ahead it was all new territory and it frightened her. "Maybe…"

"Sara?" Placing his hands on her shoulders he looked into her eyes.

Remembering the promise she made to herself the night before, _you can't look back, you have to move on_, she finally answered Mike." I can do it." Nodding she adjusted her pack. "Really."

"Great." Smiling, Mike moved behind her. "You lead the way so we go at your pace instead of mine."

"Okay." Taking a deep breath she focused on the trail ahead and took a step forward.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Moving through the crowd outside the Reno airport, Brass, Catherine and Grissom made their way to the designated pick up point.

While they were in flight, Catherine had received a disappointing call from Warrick. The search of Mike Rodgers' credit cards was a bust.

So, with a warrant and no leads, they knew they would have to rely on plan B…finding Sara the old fashioned way. They would divide up and canvas the area until someone recognized Sara and Mike from photos and gave them the tip they needed. It wasn't efficient but when it's all you got you make do.

Noticing a man holding a sign with his name on it, Brass signaled for the others to follow him. When he reached the man, he extended his hand. "I'm Captain Jim Brass LVPD and these are my associates from the crime lab, Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows."

While he shook their hands, the captain, the fifty-something balding man dressed in a stuffy brown suit, announced, "I'm Detective Bryant and first off, let me assure you that the Tahoe Police Department is at your disposal…whatever you need. The last thing we want loose in our town is a killer. As I'm sure you're aware from living in a tourist haven yourself, murder negatively impacts tourism and the mayor doesn't like negative impacts."

Brass chuckled, "Funny thing about the tourists in Vegas…they think a murder every now and then adds to the mystique."

Not sure if the Captain was joking, Detective Bryant motioned to the car. "Why don't we head to the station to discuss your strategy and determine what resources you'll need."

Not desiring to waste another minute on small talk, Grissom breezed through the group towards the car. "Why are we still standing here chatting?"

Catherine, making up for Grissom's rudeness, flashed a thousand-watt smile at the detective. "I want to personally thank you for your cooperation. We appreciate you dedicating your time and energy to help us solve this case."

Adjusting his tie, the Detective nodded at the pretty little lady in front of him. "Anything you need…just ask me and I'll personally see to it."

Leaning out of the car, Grissom yelled, "Nick's on the line. He picked up another hit on Sara's credit card. Lakeshore Lodge and Spa."

The Detective grabbed his radio. "I'll have a couple of uniforms meet us there."

* * *

In the rustic lobby of the Lakeshore Lodge, Grissom and Catherine waited while Brass and Detective Bryant spoke with the hotel manager. 

Seeing Grissom's impatience growing, Catherine reminded him, "She was at the spa at four o'clock. That's three hours ago. She's fine."

"I'm sure you're right." Logically he knew she was but yet he still worried. With the sunset on the horizon he hoped that Sara was done with outdoor activities for the day and would therefore be safe.

"Gil…there's a possibility we didn't consider and I think we should be prepared to handle it." What she really meant was _he_ should be prepared to handle it but it was easier to broach the subject this way. "Sara could be having a good time with Mike and get very upset if we burst in and haul him a way."

His voice hollow, he replied. "Believe me, I've considered that possibility."

"Maybe only I should go with Brass to the rooms. Why don't you stay here and wait for my call." It was a preventative measure to spare her friend any unnecessary pain. The last thing she wanted him to see was Sara and Mike in bed together.

Before Grissom could answer, Brass reappeared.

"Sara has room 316 and Mike has 354. We'll check Sara's room first and if she's there we can inform her of the situation before heading to Mike's."

Having considered Catherine's suggestion, Grissom said, "I'm going to stay back and check out the public areas."

After exchanging a quick look with Catherine, Brass nodded. "Good plan. Check out the restaurant…the bars. You will remember that the warrant is with me and call first if you find him."

Grissom placated his concerned friend with a nod.

As she walked away with Brass to join Detective Bryant and his two officers, Catherine waved her cell phone. "Hang tight. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

Once out of ear shot, Brass said, "Until now I never thought they'd actually have the separate rooms."

"Me either." Catherine incredulously replied as she followed him up the stairs. "But I guess I was thinking like me and not Sara."

"They don't even have adjoining rooms," he said as he took the second flight. "Maybe it really is a platonic relationship."

"We'll know soon."

At the third floor landing, the detective huddle the group. "Ms. Willows please hang back and let my officers ensure your safety."

"I…" The ring of her cell phone interrupted her. "It's Grissom." Putting the phone to her ear she listened.

Detective Bryant called out to his officers. "Hold up!"

Smiling, Catherine hung up and announced. "Mike and Sara are on the patio of the bar having a drink. Sara's fine. Grissom didn't make contact. He's waiting for us."

Detective Bryant told Brass, "Tell us when you're ready."

Brass locked eyes with Catherine. "This seems too easy."

"I know. It's freaking me out."

* * *

From behind a window inside the Mexican restaurant, Grissom continued staring at Sara. 

Sitting across from Mike at a candlelit table she was smiling and having what appeared to be a great time.

Suddenly Grissom didn't know which hurt more…the knowledge that Sara was having a wonderful time with Mike or the fact that in a minute they would be bringing her happiness to an end by telling her Mike was suspected of murder.

* * *

Sitting across from Mike, Sara enthusiastically sipped the remainder of her margarita. 

"Are you having fun?" Mike sweetly inquired as he studied Sara's eyes. "How's your drink?" Seeing it was gone he already knew the answer.

"Great! Thanks for ordering a margarita; I haven't had one in long time." Relaxing back in her chair she unloaded a heavy sigh. "That massage really worked. I think I got rid of all the stress trapped in my body. I feel better than I have in years. "

"I'm so happy to hear that, Sara." Leaning into the conversation he spoke soothingly. "Doesn't it feel good to be outdoors instead of trapped in the lab for hours on end? You look so much more relaxed than when we first arrived. The fresh air does wonders."

Savoring the soothing effects of the margarita she purred, "Mmmm…definitely."

"And the exercise…really rejuvenates you, doesn't it?"

"It really does." Enthusiastically she announced.

Reaching across the table, Mike gently took Sara's hand. "You look great too."

Surprised by his touch, she retracted her hand and playfully scolded him. "Now I thought we said we're taking things slow…**_very _**slow."

Mike charmingly replied, "Sorry. With the sunset in the background…you look… let's just say I lost my head…again."

Coyly she said, "I think you keep trying because you're hoping I'll change my mind."

"I think you will eventually." Smiling he winked at her. "A guy can hope anyway."

* * *

Without taking his eyes off Sara, Grissom acknowledged the arrival of Catherine, Brass and the Tahoe crew. "Took you long enough." 

Brass was quick to answer. "It's been two minutes tops.  
Glancing through the window he noted the target. "Okay, I'll go with the Detective and backups to get Mike, the two of you stay…"

"No." Grissom turned to face the group. "I'll go in and take Sara out of the bar before you get to Mike." The last thing he wanted was for her to find out in a big scene. "Don't make a move until you see I have Sara out of there, understand?"

Brass could tell Detective Bryant didn't like the idea of an unarmed CSI leading off. "Probably better for business, Detective Bryant, don't you think? Less of a scene without the girl there for the take down."

Bryant nodded. "Okay. We'll do it your way, Mr. Grissom."

* * *

Casually checking his watch, Mike asked. "Are you hungry? Maybe we should leave here and grab a bite to eat at that seafood place we saw the other day." 

The mention of food thrilled her and she replied with dramatic flair. "Good idea. I'm starving."

Grinning, Mike once again took Sara's hand. "I'm hungry too." Pleased that she didn't rebuff his touch this time, he murmured, "You should probably grab a sweater from your room in case you get chilly again." Rising from his seat he gently pulled Sara to her feet. "I'll walk with you."

While staring into Mike's suddenly enticing brown eyes, Sara was surprised to hear her name yelled from across the restaurant. "Did someone just…" It was a familiar voice but not one she expected to hear in Tahoe.

"Sara!" Grissom dashed past the bar and onto the patio. "Sara, I need to talk to you." When he reached for her Mike batted his hand away.

Aggravated, Mike raised his voice. "What the hell are you doing here? Sara is on vacation.She's here to relax. You have no right to bother her especially whenshe's suspended. I can't believe you! Whatever you have to say can wait until she returns to work." Clasping Sara's hand, he attempted to walk away. "Now if you'll excuse us."

Shaking Mike's hand loose, Sara turned back to Grissom and cheerily asked, "What are you doing here?" Without waiting for his answer she leapt to a joyful conclusion. "You…you came looking for me."

She couldn't believe he was here. How did he find her? She didn't tell anyone where she was staying. It didn't seem possible but the details hardly mattered. "You're here…for me." Happiness flowed through her as she realized absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

"Yes, I am, Sara." Grabbing her hand, Grissom pulled her away while snapping at Mike. "This won't take long. I have to brief her on an urgent case. It's confidential so we'll be stepping out for a moment. Wait here." Practically dragging her, he whisked her off the patio.

Agitated, Mike checked his watch and gripped the railing of the patio balcony. "Damn him!"

A moment later, Brass was leaning against the rail smirking. "Wait for the next part…then you'll really have a reason to curse."

Turning around Mike saw Catherine Willows, Captain Brass and two local uniformed police officers. "What the hell is going on?"

Stepping forward Brass calmly delivered the news. "We have a warrant to bring you in for questioning."

"A warrant?" Mike seethed with anger. "On what grounds?"

"Suspicion of murder." Brass extended his court order. "Does the name Samantha Hatcher ring a bell?" Enjoying the shock in Mike's eyes Brass signaled for the uniforms to take him out of the restaurant. "No need to put on a floor show for the customers. We're going to step in a private room down the hall and give you a presentation on blood spatter. Oh and Ms. Willows will need a sample of your DNA."

"What the hell? Have you all lost your mind?" Not wanting to make a scene, Mike followed them out of the bar while quietly protesting to Brass. "You have no idea what you're talking about. Samantha died in a horrible accident."

* * *

When they reached a secluded spot in the resort garden, Grissom finally stopped tugging Sara. "Sorry for the scene but I …" 

Sara's spirits soared. "I completely understand! You had a change of heart and couldn't wait to tell me so you rushed to Tahoe and tracked me down." Like a giddy school girl she took his hands in hers. "I'm so glad you're here." The intimate garden setting made the sweet scene even more surreal than it already felt and she begged him, "Say something! Tell me how you feel."

Never anticipating her to make this particular assumption about his sudden appearance, Grissom froze.

Pouring out her heart, Sara gushed. "I tried so hard not to think about you but I missed you every day. I tried to move on. I _really_ tried to move on but I don't want to move on. I couldn't, so many things reminded me of you...of us. I saw the most beautiful butterfly and…I can't believe you're here…that you feel the same way."

Overwhelmed with delight, Sara threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you for coming for me." It felt like a scene straight out of a romantic movie.

Peeling her arms off him, he delicately said, "Sara…I think you better listen to what I have to say." Before he could get another word in she was verbally off and running again.

"I know. I know!" Remembering what she learned during the Dr. Lurie interrogation she addressed his concerns. "You were worried things wouldn't work out between us because you thought I would get disenchanted and leave you. You think I have some schoolgirl fantasy in my head that I want you to fulfill and if you don't live up to it I'll leave skid marks as I run out the door. That would never happen. Never."

Caught off guard by her affirmations and her loving stare, he averted his eyes.

Reaching out she caressed his cheek. "I don't want a fantasy; I need someone to share my reality. That someone is you. It's always been you, Grissom."

Her touch startling him as much as her words, a current of fearsurged through him.

"No relationship is perfect but we can make it work. I know we can because I love..."

"Sara!" Frantic, he gripped her by the shoulders. "You need to stop talking! Right now!" Once more he attempted to get her to listen to him. "Sara, I need ..."

Blissfully she whispered, "I need you too." The world was spinning out of control along with her mounting passion so without wasting another second on conversation she planted her lips on his, unleashing years of pent up desire.

Astonished by her very unexpected and decidedly hungry kiss, Grissom took Sara's head in his hands and coaxed her to stop. "Sara, please…I can't handle this right now."

"I know…it's intense, isn't it?" Watching him catch his breath, a euphoric grin blanketed her face. "I've never felt more alive!" Running her hands over his body she taunted him. "Let's go back to my room. There's a fireplace. Let's go right now…I can't wait another minute for you to make…"

"Stop!" Unable to cope with his conflicting feelings or her impulsive behavior for another minute he snapped. "What has gotten into you? How can you say these things to me when five minutes ago you were in there holding hands with Mike? Where were you going with him, Sara? Back to your room? Do you remember you're here on vacation with another man?" Noticing her wild eyes, he asked, "How drunk are you?"

Amused by his assumption, she giggled, "I only had one margarita. I'm not drunk! I was fine until you got here and now…all of a sudden…well I do feel pretty tipsy." Giggling, she yelled, "I must be drunk on you!"

Mentally and physically exhausted from the days of searching for her and now completely overwhelmed by her reaction to his arrival, he implored her. "Sara…I mean it. I'm serious. You have to stop."

From the main building, Catherine rushed into the garden shouting. "Gil!"

Sara tossed her arms in the air. "Not good timing, Catherine!" Confused by her co-workers spontaneous appearance, Sara desperately tried to make sense of it all. "Catherine? Why are you here?" Suddenly she couldn't focus on why any of them were here. "How did we all…" The surroundings blurred and she wondered where they were. Was she sleeping and this nothing more than a twisted dream?

Rushing over Catherine anxiously relayed her urgent information to Grissom. "When they patted down Mike they found half a vial of a clear, odorless substance in his jacket pocket."

Losing her footing, Sara stumbled forward.

While catching Sara, the picture snapped into focus for Grissom and panic flooded his voice. "We need an ambulance." A vial…Sara's uncharacteristic behavior…the missing GHB…Mike had been in the lab that night. "Now!"

Phone to her ear, Catherine made the urgent request.

Sara couldn't understand Grissom's choice. "An ambulance?" Not very romantic, she mused. Still, no matter how odd the suggestion she realized she didn't mind. Holding her head she teetered. "As long as I can lie down I don't care where we go."

Catherine announced, "Ambulance is on the way."

Grissom whisked Sara into his arms. "Catherine, see if Sara's glass is still on the table. If it's not on the table, find it and take it into evidence!" "I'm taking her to the lobby to wait."

"I'm on it!" Catherine shouted as she ran back into the building.

In Grissom's arms Sara felt her body completely relax. "This is so nice. Mmm...where are we going?" Closing her eyes she decided she didn't care.

Once in the lobby, Grissom placed Sara in a brown leather arm chair and kneeling down in front of her, lightly tapped her cheeks. "Stay with me, Sara."

Grissom knew all too well that GHB was a tricky substance.

A low dose removes inhibitions, produces euphoria and stimulates sexual appetite until the person eventually gets drowsy and falls asleep. The effects are present about ten to fifteen minutes after the drug hits the system and the victim stays conscious for one to four hours. After five or six hours of deep sleep the person wakes up with a slight hangover and a foggy memory.

In contrast, a higher dose of GHB, rapidly leads to unresponsive sleep, shallow breathing, and decreased blood pressure. The next morning the person would have total amnesia about the night's events.

When criminals secretly administer the drug to unsuspecting victims the real danger is the potential for the drug to mix with other agents…alcohol, over the counter medications, prescriptions. The wrong combination and the wrong amounts could lead to coma or even death.

Since Sara's symptoms coincided with his arrival he figured she had been drugged only ten to fifteen minutes prior so her rapid cycling from euphoria to arousal to drowsiness troubled him.

"Sara, you said you had one margarita, are you sure that's all you had? How strong was it?" Placing his two fingers on her wrist he took her pulse.

Her head felt heavy and she struggled to focus on the question. "It was a little salty."

Upset to find her pulse was only 52, he shook her lightly. "Stay awake, Sara." A crowd was gathering around them so he barked. "I need everyone to back away and give us some space! Can someone working here please control the guests!" The curious patrons quickly dispersed to the far corner of the room.

"I…I'm really tired." She took a shallow breath. "I don't think I can pull another shift today. I need to get some rest. I can't drive…I'll sleep here in the break room."

Yanking her out of the chair he held her to keep her on her feet. "Sara! Did you take any medications today? Prescription, OTC? Anything?"

Dropping her head on his shoulder she mumbled. " I…I took some allergy stuff. I shouldn't have…didn't mean to let you down."

A moment later he felt her go completely limp in his arms. "Sara!" Shaking her, he frantically tried to get a response. While readying to take her pulse again, the wail of a siren brought him much needed comfort. Once again he lifted Sara in his arms, this time rushing outside to meet the paramedics.

The stretcher was barely off the truck when Grissom placed Sara on it and gave the EMTs all the information he had. "Her pulse was 52 when I checked a minute ago. She was given an unknown quantity of Gamma-Hydroxybutyrate in a margarita of unknown strength probably about twenty minutes ago, she also took allergy medication but I don't know how much, when or what kind. I'll have someone check her room to see what she took."

With horror in his eyes he watched them load Sara inside before climbing in with them.

Calmly one of the paramedics slipped a blood pressure cuff around Sara's upper arm while the other jumped out and shut the door. "Lucky for her there was a doctor in the house. Nice of you to ride with us in case we need you." Moving to check his patient's pulse, he said, "My name's Doug by the way."

Trying to snap out of the shock assaulting him, Grissom retreated into formality. "I'm Gil Grissom. I'm not a medical doctor; I'm with the Las Vegas crime lab. I came out here as part of a team to serve a warrant on the guy who drugged her." His words caught on the lump in his throat. It was all so surreal. Reaching out he took Sara's limp hand in his. "How is she doing?"

"Pulse is 50, pressure's a little low but not worrying me because body temp is normal and she's breathing fine. Protocol is observation for respiratory problems and seizures. She's my third GHB victim since I took the job and the best off by far." While noting vitals, the paramedic routinely asked, "do you have someone meeting us there with a rape kit?"

The word and the question rocked him to the core. Everything had unfolded so fast that he didn't have time to realize what he had prevented. "I…uh…got to her before…" Sweat beaded on his forehead as his stomach churned.

Doug looked quizzically at Grissom. "Are you usually in the lab instead of out in the field because you look like you're going to lose it? You CSIs have a reputation for stomaching anything and this case isn't…"

"This isn't just another case." Tightening his grip on Sara's hand, his voice cracked. "She's with me…with my lab."

Pulling out his cell phone, Grissom punched in Catherine's code and anxiously waited for her to answer. His voice cracking he said, "Catherine, I…I need you to go to Sara's room and see if you can find a box of allergy medication. Check the trash for the bubble pack and see how many pills she took."

Closing his eyes he tried to focus on her questions. "She's stable." Tightening his grip on Sara's hand he choked out the next answer. "How am I? I...Catherine, how did I...why didn't I figure out he took the GHB? I was right there. Hell…I didn't even know it was missing until Ecklie told me. If I had inventoried before I took it back for her…"

Doug cautioned. "Pressure's dipping."

Terror in his voice, Grissom announced, "I have to go."

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

It was a little after 5 a.m. when Catherine saw Sara's eyes flutter open.

Gently taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed, Catherine spoke softly. "Sara…don't worry. You're in the hospital but you're going to be fine."

Her parched throat throbbed as she struggled to speak. "H…hospital? Was I in an accident?" Moving her hands to her head, she winced. "What hospital am I in? This doesn't look like Desert Palms or…"

"That's because you're still in Tahoe. Try to sit up and I'll give you something to drink."

While handing her a glass of ice water, Catherine asked, "Do you remember anything about last night?"

After gingerly taking a few sips of water to wet her throat, Sara concentrated on the question.

"What's the last thing you remember, Sara?" Catherine pulled a small notepad from her jacket pocket.

"I…I was at the hotel…on the patio…with Mike. He…he brought me a margarita from the bar." After a minute, she glanced over at Catherine. "That's the last thing I remember. Did something happen at the hotel? Did I hit my head?" Becoming increasingly anxious she rapidly fired questions. "How did you get here? Why are you writing down what I'm saying? What's going on, Catherine?" Dropping her throbbing head in her hands she moaned.

Changing to a motherly tone, Catherine said, "If you promise to try and stay calm I'll fill in the blanks, okay?" When she saw Sara give a little nod, she continued. "I'll start with why you're in the hospital then give you the rest of the story."

Taking a deep breath, Catherine broke the news. "You know the vial of GHB from the Ellers case that went missing from the lab?"

"Yeah."

"We found it last night."

Sara couldn't understand why Catherine had switched topics from telling her why she was in the hospital. "What? Where?"

Calmly she replied, "Half of it in your bloodstream and the other half in a vial in Mike's jacket pocket. You're here because a combination of GHB, alcohol and allergy medicine in your system rendered you unconscious. You're lucky you're not in a coma." Reaching out she lay a hand on Sara's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Mike's not the person he claims to be."

Terror seized her. "Are you saying…" Wrapping her arms around her body she shivered as her gut twisted into a knot. "That he…umm…"

"No. No!" Catherine furiously shook her head. "No, we caught him just as he was walking you out of the bar. We figure he must have put it in your margarita."

Sara's mind completely blank regarding last night's events, she scanned Catherine's eyes for the truth. "Are you sure he didn't…"

"Yes! Absolutely certain." Catherine nodded with conviction. "You were examined by a doctor last night and she concurred that nothing happened. We busted Mike in the resort bar. There was no time. I know it's difficult when you have no memory but trust me, Sara, I'd tell you if something happened. And you would know, wouldn't you?"

Falling back against the bedding Sara took the time toprocess Catherine's words.

Minutes later, Sara's fear turned to humiliation. "I feel so stupid. Here I am trained to put creeps like him away and I don't even see it coming when it's happening to me."

"Now you know better than to blame the victim." Catherine released a troubled sigh. "Please don't tell me you think you were asking for it. Don't go there." It was a natural reaction and she knew it was coming.

Wallowing in guilt the words slipped right out. "I barely knew the guy. I can't believe I agreed to go away with him. What the hell was I thinking?"

Frustrated, Catherine hardened her tone. "You were thinking he's a decent cop, a friend of Nick's…a guy who wanted to see if the two of you could start an _honest_ relationship."

"That doesn't mean I should have put myself in such a vulnerable situation."

"Sara! You were thinking you were going away as friends in separate rooms and that he'd respect the agreed upon conditions unless **_both_** of you changed your minds. Hell…you wanted to get out of town and have a little fun for once in your life. Give yourself a break."

Staring into Sara's eyes Catherine pointedly asked, "Did you **_ever_** tell him he had permission to drug you if you didn't put out on this trip?"

Sara eeked out a barely audible, "No."

Softening again, Catherine pleaded. "You didn't do anything wrong, Sara. He did. Please tell me you understand that."

"It's so easy to think it's your fault." Her head sunk as low as her spirits.

"Right." Catherine nodded. "And that's why so many cases go unreported and these guys are able to walk around town picking up victim after victim. Just because you're the victim here don't lose perspective. If it were another woman in your situation how would you feel? I've seen you work these cases. Think about it."

Catherine fell quiet, letting Sara take the time to work through it.

Finally, Sara replied, "You're right. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Catherine cracked a tiny smile.

After composing herself with a few more sips of water, Sara was able to push past her troubling emotions and resume asking questions. "Okay…so you busted him in the bar. How did you know to come to Tahoe? How did you know to come to the bar? How did you know he had the GHB? How did you know he had drugged me?"

Happy to see inquisitive Sara return, Catherine smiled. "Ah…that's the long part of the story. It all started the day Grissom saw Mike eating a chili dog at Windy City."

"Grissom?" It was the first time Catherine had mentioned his name. "He's involved in this too?"

Following a light chuckle, Catherine explained. "You really didn't think I was your Knight in Shining Armor in this story, did you?"

In spite of her throbbing head, aching body and grating nausea, Sara managed a stellar smile. "Where is he?"

"He's at the Tahoe police station with Brass. They're questioning Mike."

Curling up under the hospital bedding, Sara sweetly asked, "Would you tell me everything."

"My pleasure." Catherine looked forward to telling the tale. By the time she was done relaying the details to Sara, she knew Grissom would be in for a very warm reception when he returned.

* * *

At the Tahoe police station, Brass waited outside the interrogation room for Grissom to arrive. 

When he saw him in the hall, Brass flagged him down and led him into Detective Bryant's empty office. "Sara conscious yet?"

"No." His voice weakened. "Not yet."

When Brass shut the door, Grissom asked, "Catherine told me I should get down here right away but she didn't have any details. What's going on?"

"We've got a problem."

"What kind of problem?" Already on overload, the last thing he needed was a problem.

Making himself at home in the detective's desk chair Brass grumbled. "Thanks to the efficient staff at the Lakeshore Resort, we don't have Sara's margarita glass. Without the glass we can't prove the GHB was in the drink Rodgers brought her. We questioned everyone and there are no witnesses."

"But you found the vial in his jacket during the search."

"Surprise, surprise, he said he has no idea how the GHB vial got in his jacket and his prints weren't on it."

"We found his jacket in the lab on the same night the vial went missing..."

"Yeah…about that. Rodgers said _why_ _would I leave the jacket in the lab if I put the vial in there_. He thinks someone planted the vial in his jacket."

Incredulous, Grissom took a seat. "Are you telling me he's saying he was framed?"

"That's what he's saying."

Unable to fathom an answer he asked, "Framed by whom?"

"Sara."

"What?!" Dumbfounded he stared at Brass.

"Rodgers' asked for his lawyer so he won't talk on record but he's asked to speak with you in private." Noting the anger building in Grissom's eyes, Brass advised, "But I really don't think it's a good idea."

Jumping out of his chair, Grissom headed for the door. "Tell me where he is."

"Hey, when was the last time you slept?"

"I slept in Sara's hospital room." Moving into the hallway he barked, "Are you going to tell me where he is or do I have to start knocking."

Knowing there was no stopping him, Brass reluctantly answered Grissom's question. "Down the hall to your right. Conference Room B."

Tearing down the hall, Grissom's temper flared. When he reached the right door, he flung it open.

Without acknowledging the dramatic entrance, Mike, sitting alone at the large table, sweetly asked, "How is Sara? I've been worried sick about her."

Glaring at the uniform cop in the corner of the room, Grissom barked, "Leave us and shut the door."

The cop looked to Brass who gave the okay. That's fine. We'll be right outside the door ifthey need us." With trepidation, Brass followed the cop out of the windowless and unfortunately soundproof room and shut the door.

Leaning over the table, Grissom snarled, "Whatever it is you're attempting to pull it's not going to work."

Calmly Mike replied, "I'm not trying to pull anything. I didn't murder Samantha Hatcher and I didn't drug Sara. You've got everything wrong. Please…will you sit down and give me a chance to explain. I asked to speak to you because you are Sara's boss and I think someone needs to understand what's going on with her."

"What's going on with Sara?" Irate, he retorted, "What's going on is she's unconscious from the drug you gave her."

Appealing to Grissom's sense of duty, Mike said, "You're a CSI, not a cop. You're supposed to wait for the evidence before drawing conclusions. So how about listening to what I have to say."

Curiosity and professionalism getting the better of him, he pulled out a chair and took a seat across from Mike.

Pleased to see he would be getting a chance, Mike relaxed. "Thank you."

Ignoring the pleasantry, Grissom flatly replied, "Start talking."

Compassion flooding his voice, Mike began to explain. "I had no idea how emotionally fragile Sara was until we got to Tahoe. I mean I knew she was struggling to hold it together on the job…that was clear when I met her working the homicide at The Flying Aces. That's why I offered to buy her coffee the next day, I felt bad that one of my guy's mistakes got her so upset."

Listening intently, Grissom didn't move a muscle.

"Nick warned me Sara was hurting. He said some guy she really cared about forgot her birthday. Apparently, she took it hard."

Grissom, despite his efforts to stay emotionally detached, felt himself wince. Thinking back to the birthday celebration in break room he remembered apologizing to Sara and what did she say when sherealized he had forgotten her birthday? _No problem, I know you're a busy man with bigger priorities_. He wondered what she thought when he didn't correct her misperception.

"Knowing Sara was bummed out made me want to cheer her up even more." Shaking his head Mike's voice dropped an octave. "That morning, over coffee, I could see the pain Nick mentioned. I could see it in Sara's eyes. I felt so sorry for her."

Thinking back, Grissom remembered that morning. Mike was dead wrong. The pain in Sara's eyes was due to the Ellers case, not her birthday disappointment. Or was it? Was Sara's edginess during the Ellers case merely a result of her being upset over the missed birthday? Or was it a combination of both?

Sadness filling his voice, Mike continued. "The girl has such low self-esteem. Do you know she has no personal life? She spends all her time working. As her supervisor you should have recognized the signs of burnout and took steps long before she got this bad."

On this point Grissom was certain Mike was wrong. On numerous occasions, he urged Sara to get an outside interest and warned her she'd burn out if she didn't. But had she?

Grissom didn't know the answer. He didn't know because he had never followed up on their conversations or on her progress with her P.E.A.P. counselor. In a flash his thoughts turned to their last conversation and Sara's heated words. _If I want to keep my sanity I have to force myself to get a life beyond these walls. My P.E.A.P. Counselor agrees. As my supervisor you should be supporting me on this. _

After waiting for a response from Grissom for a couple of minutes, Mike realized he'd have to be the one to do the talking. "On this trip I also found out Sara doesn't eat properly and she doesn't sleep well. I'm no psychologist but it sounds like she's going in some kind of deep depression."

The word resonated with Grissom. Deep depression? Is that what had caused her to drink earlier this year? What could have devastated her so much to cause such a downward spiral? Once again Grissom was assaulted with Sara's words…the tearful ones she had spoken at his door. _I remember the first smile but the funny thing is we've never shared a kiss but look…I'm still crying. _

Sighing, Mike said, "It was very clear to me on this trip that Sara was grateful to finally have someone willing to sit down and listen to her problems. Someone who cared enough to really help her. Seriously…with the kind of hours you work with Sara you didn't you notice _any_ of this? Why? You're a smart guy. Or did you notice and you just didn't handle it?"

Finally Grissom managed a short reply. "You're the one who wants talk. I don't have to answer your questions."

* * *

A few minutes into the story, Sarahad a question. "After the chili dog incident, why didn't Grissom just come to me and tell me?" 

"He was afraid if he told you about the chili dog you would think he was jealous of Mike and think he was trying to find a way to get him out of your life."

Sara considered the answer for a moment. "Yeah…that's what I would have thought."

"And you would have been right."

"And I would have been _pissed off _because Grissom had just told me a day before that he couldn't risk a relationship with me." Realizing her uncharacteristic overshare, Sara put her hand to her mouth and shyly squeaked. "Leftover inhibition from the GHB?"

"Don't worry, whatever we say stays in this room, Sara." Catherine grinned. "I don't know if it helps but…he may have been fueled by jealousy in the beginning but by the time we got to you last night it was much, much more."

Anxious for the details, Sara prodded. "Keep going with the story."

* * *

Mike held up his hands. "Okay…okay I won't ask you any more questions. We'll just stick to the facts. Last week when you got upset because I was in the lab…" 

Replacing his angst with anger, Grissom said, "I remember it perfectly. You left your jacket. The jacket you were wearing last night…the one with the GHB in the pocket. When are you going to tell me how the GHB got in your pocket?"

"I'm getting to that but you need to hear the _whole_ story or it won't make sense."

"Then keep going."

"After you blew up about me being in the lab, Sara and I left to go out to dinner. She was an emotional wreck. She was going on and on about how she couldn't slip up at work, how she had to be perfect. I got the feeling it killed her to mess up in front of you." Flippantly, he asked, "Are you that much of a whip cracker with everyone at the office or is it just Sara that gets the brunt of it? Do you have something against her?"

Recalling the scene in the hallway with Sara, Grissom wondered if he had been too harsh but then he remembered the whole reason Sara was in the hospital…she left the GHB unattended and she left Mike in the lab with it giving him an opportunity to take it. Feeling certain his strong reaction that night was appropriate he turned his thoughts to Mike's description of Sara. An emotional wreck? Why? Because she hadn't been perfect in his eyes? Why was it so important for her to always be flawless for him?

"Oh that's right you're not answering questions so I guess you won't tell me if you have something against Sara. Okay whatever." Sighing Mike said, "That night at dinner Sara picked at her food and by the time we were walking out of the restaurant I could tell she was near tears.

Now I thought that evening was pretty bad." Mike sighed as he slumped in his chair. "But it was all down hill from there. The next day Sara was devastated because she messed up on one of her reports and had to redo it for you. After that she got suspended. Man…by the time we left for Tahoe she was hanging on by a thread."

Grissom recalled Roxie's description of Sara when she left the apartment building…_she looked blah_. Did blah equal hanging on by a thread?

Looking down at the table, Mike softly said, "But the work stress was _nothing_ compared to how screwed up she was over the guy."

Mike's story already had Grissom reeling but at the mention of a guy his anxiety skyrocketed. Had Sara talked to Mike about him? About the scene at his town home? About their bittersweet words in the office? Had she really turned to a virtual stranger for comfort? "The guy?"

"Yeah…the guy who forgot her birthday." Heatedly, Mike replied, "She wouldn't tell me his name but whoever he is, he's an ass. One of those users who strings a girl along, getting her hopes up but never following through. A controller…you know…never wants the girl too far away but never lets her too close. With Sara's low self-esteem I'm sure she fell for his manipulations every time. She's a textbook case of..."

* * *

Her feet kicked up on the hospital bed, Catherine continued to tell the story. "So we're at your apartment and suddenly Grissom has this crazy idea that maybe you hide your personal information in books." 

The more Catherine spoke the deeper Sara fell. "Hmm….maybe he knows me better than I think he does."

"Who knows what goes on in his head? For instance…when I was calling in your credit card information to Warrick, Grissom suddenly flipped into bug mode and was all wrapped up in some Entomology textbook of yours.

Sara knew she only had one Entomology book. "Really? Did he find anything in that one?"

"Hmm…I don't know. He was being all weird about it. Even when we were ready to leave I had to rip it out of his hands and put it back on the shelf. Like he was obsessed it."

Closing her eyes, Sara fell deeper still.

* * *

Grissom averted his gaze as he listened to his own pitiful behavior described. 

"Apparently Sara had been waiting around for years for this loser to make a move and last week he _finally _has the balls to tell her it's never going to happen." Shaking his head aggravation accented his words. "It makes no sense. What kind of guy tosses aside a woman as smart and as beautiful as Sara. I mean sure she's fragile but only because of the number he'd done on her for years. I bet she was a whole different person years ago."

Swallowing hard, Grissom struggled not to react. Four years ago Sara was a strong, vibrant woman but now she was often edgy and dark. Was the changea result of his self-serving behavior? Had he picked up on her desperation and exploited it to fill his own needs?

While Grissom's mind raced to places he didn't want to go, Mike prattled on.

"Anyway…I know you're only interested in the bottom line so I'll get on with it." Calmly, he continued. "We get to Tahoe and I try to cheer her up. Nothing's working. She's falling deeper and deeper into depression."

Grissom recalled Sara sitting in the bar with Mike. She looked blissful, not depressed. Was it the GHB he saw and not Sara?

"Then all of a sudden last night she wants me to go have a drink in the bar. I'm hopeful…thinking maybe the fresh air has helped clear her head and she's ready to move on."

"We go to the bar and I get her a margarita then I excuse myself to use the restroom. As I'm walking away she says she's cold and asks me for my jacket. I take it off. Put it around her shoulders then head to the men's room. A few minutes later when I return, she hands the jacket back and says the drink warmed her up. About five minutes after that you show up and well…you know the rest of story. I figure she put the GHB in her drink while I was in the restroom."

Pushing what he hoped were irrational thoughts out of his mind, Grissom came to a conclusion. This story couldn't possibly be true.

Remembering Wendy Blake's testimony on Mike's ability to craft a good story, Grissom was positive it was all fabrication. It had to be.

As far as his own doubts about his behavior with Sara were concerned, he realized Mike's persuasive storytelling skills must be playing tricks on his mind.

Confident he had Mike's number, Grissom mustered a cocky reply. "I'm not buying it. Your story is way off. Sara knows how GHB works. You can't expect me to believe she'd risk putting herself in a coma just to get the guy to notice her. She could have died."

For the first time, Mike raised his voice. "Oh come on…you've seen these types of cases before. She wanted attention; it was a cry for help! You know how many calls we get on this stuff? I must handle five attempted suicide calls a week just like it. Just because a woman is smart doesn't mean she thinks clearly when it comes to her heart."

As much as Grissom wanted to ignore Mike's comment he couldn't. Sara's last words to before she left for Tahoe wouldn't let him. _You were right all along…it's for the best. I should know better than to question your judgment. I was listening to my heart instead of using my head_. _I promise never to bring up the subject again._

* * *

Being a romantic at heart, Catherine loved relaying the next part of the story. "When I stopped by last night Grissom was holding your hand and talking to you." 

Upon hearing about Grissom's loving behavior, Sara's heart filled with happiness. "What was he saying?"

"Unfortunately he was speaking softly and I couldn't make it out. I tried to talk to him about it but of course he clammed up." Chuckling, she added, "So you know it had to personal."

Her spirits soaring, Sara smiled brightly. "It figures…the _one_ time he tells me something really good, I'm unconscious."

"Sara, when I got here early this morning, he was asleep in the chair next to your bed, still holding your hand. I think that speaks volumes."

"Yes," she murmured as her heart overflowed with joy.

* * *

Leaning across the table, Mike whispered, "Don't you see...I'm just the pawn in Sara's schoolgirl game? If you hadn't shown up when you did, I bet she would have feigned a collapse on the way to the lobby to get the ball rolling. The cops would have shown up, found the vial on me and..." 

Incredulous, Grissom asked, "How would this help her?"

"She hoped that this trauma would make the guy _finally_ give her the affection she craved." Since his words weren't working, Mike painted a visual. "Can't you picture it…the guy finds out what happened and rushes to her side. Because he almost loses her he has a sudden change of heart. Maybe he'd sit by the bed holding her hand, telling her how much he cares…calling himself a fool for ever turning her away. Game over. She's got him."

Turmoil rioting within him, Grissom fought to find the hole in Mike's story. "There is nothing in Sara's past that would lead me or anyone to believe she would do something like that. Nothing!"

"Oh yeah?"

Jumping up from the table Grissom blasted, "I'm through listening to your fabrication!"

Suddenly a smile curved over Mike's lips. "I have to disagree about Sara's past." He knew it would hook him into staying. "I think there is something there."

Confused, Grissom knitted his brow.

"Sara has done something like this before and she got results but not the result she wanted. So this time I think she upped the ante hoping for a _bigger_ payoff."

His anger rapidly escalating, Grissom fumed. "What the hell are you talking about? You barely know Sara how could you know about her past?!"

Shaking his head, Mike grinned. "You're supposed to be the genius so why can't you figure this stuff out? Why do I have to keep giving you the answers? Okay…I'm feeling generous so I'll give you a hint. Three letters…ready?" Although he knew there was no way Grissom was ready for what was coming.

Grissom's eyes narrowed as he watched Mike's face light up with pleasure.

"D…U…I." The pleasure of the reveal thrilled his twisted mind. "The look on your face…totally priceless." Mike shook with laughter before commenting in his best TV announcer voice, "Let me introduce '_the guy'_ himself…Gil Grissom."

Disturbed beyond all reason, Grissom could barely remember to breathe.

"Uh...yeah I was talking about **_you_** the whole damn time. Duh!"

Delirious with excitement Mike exclaimed, "Sara sure got you to come running that night, didn't she? Say it with me, Gil..._attention getting maneuver_."

Cackling he asked, "Speaking of getting attention…do I have yours?"

* * *


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Shock and humiliation vying for his attention, Grissom dropped into the nearest chair.

"You're wondering how I know about the DUI." Enthusiastically Mike announced, "I was there. I saw it and enjoyed it. Cops love seeing CSIs screw up because you guys always think you're smarter than us. When I met Sara a few months later I remembered who she was...the drunk CSI chick. I never forget a face.

Locking eyes with Grissom, he said, "After Nick told me Sara was upset about a guy forgetting her birthday, I knew the next day when I saw you and her together, the guy was you. Yes, it was that obvious...well at least to me but then again, I read people real well. Just to be certain, I did some checking; tapped into the gossip mill and confirmed my suspicions."

Gripping the arms of the chair, Grissom searched for the truth in his head and his heart. Was Sara really crying out for attention? Was Mike the pawn in _her_ game? Am I the pawn in her game, he wondered? Is she really that damaged? From something? _From me?_

Thoroughly enjoying the moment, Mike kept going. "You wish you could believe with one hundred percent certainty that I'm lying about Sara taking the GHB but you can't. And you know why you can't? Because everything I said is plausible."

Grissom squirmed in the chair as his head swirled with doubts. Mike was a lifetime liar so there was no compelling reason to start believing him now and yet…everything he said had a thin layer of truth.

"Hmm…is it plausibility convincing you my story is true? Or is it something else?" Snickering Mike offered an alternative reason. "Maybe you believe Sara would harm herself to get your attention because it gives you a rise…pumps your ego. Maybe Sara has it all wrong and that's why her plan didn't work last time. She's not the one who gets the payoff from these stunts…it's _you_."

As he listened, Grissom struggled to sort the fact from the fiction.

With a lethal calmness in his eyes, Mike kept pushing. "Do you enjoy it, Gil? Watching Sara pine and suffer over you? Is the look in her eyes when you disappoint her your fetish? Do you go home at the end of the day and fondly recall how you messed with her mind? Is that how you get off?"

Exploding from the inflammatory accusation, Grissom lunged across the table grabbing Mike by the collar. "You know nothing about Sara or me."

Pleased with the results his taunt provoked, Mike grinned. "In an interrogation, when the suspect reacts strongly to something that's when the cop knows he's on the right track."

The steady ring of Grissom's cell phone pulled him back from the brink.

"Better answer that." Mike instructed as Grissom released his collar. "It could be _the girl_. Time to resume the game, perhaps?"

Still pulsating with disgust, Grissom grabbed his cell phone and checked the display. Seeing it was Catherine, he took the call. "Grissom." As he walked to the far corner of the room, he kept one eye on Mike.

When he heard Catherine say Sara was conscious and feeling well he exhaled the trapped air in his chest and quietly savored the wonderful news.

His primary concern allayed, Grissom's thoughts shifted to another. Lowering his voice to a whisper so hopefully Mike couldn't hear, he asked, "What did she say about last night? Does she remember seeing Mike do anything with her drink? "

After Catherine informed him that Sara only remembered Mike bringing her a margarita and nothing after that, a unexpected second wave of relief washed over him. Just to make sure he heard right, he confirmed. "So she doesn't remember me being there at all." Finally some good news today, he thought. They wouldn't have to deal with Sara's GHB-influenced behavior and proclamations from last night.

Catherine's next words however, brought little comfort. "How much longer are you going to be? Sara's asking about you. One of the nurses just told her you were here all night holding her hand so the jig is up, Gil, she knows how worried you were last night. She knows how much you care. I told her the whole story and she loved every minute of it…even forgave us for breaking into her apartment. She can't wait to see you, so get back here soon. She's been through so much and she'd much rather have you comforting her than me. Hey, why don't I at least go back in her room and give her the phone."

"No!" Still uncertain which parts of Mike's story were real he couldn't talk to Sara. "It's not a good time. I'm in the middle of the interrogation." Gripping his forehead, he said, "Tell her…tell her I'm glad she's doing well. Oh and Catherine…" As much as it pained him to ask, he had to know. Once againdropping to a to a whisper, he inquired, "Before you or the nurse told Sara I was involved…before Sara realized how much this experience affected me, what was her mood?"

As Catherine answered, Grissom's eyes turned to Mike, who was sitting at the table grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Sara was really down but the second I mentioned your name and told her how you saved the day she lit up like a Christmas tree."

Her response only adding to his confusion, he said, "Catherine, I'll uh…talk to you later."

When he disconnected the phone and returned it to his pocket he heard Mike break out laughing.

"Sara is dying to see you, huh? Oh wait…that was last night." Holding up his hand, Mike said, "Enough with the jokes. We have something important to talk about."

Grissom reluctantly returned to his seat, preparing for whatever Mike was going to hurl next.

Staring at Grissom, Mike said, "Let's review the case against me, shall we? We'll start with the evidence because you're having a rough day and that's your favorite part."

"How generous of you." He knew the ounce of kindness meant the worst was yet to come.

"You have the half vial of GHB found in my jacket. I'm sure you had blood work done on Sara and it proved she had GHB in her system, right?"

While waiting for the bombshell, Grissom played along. "Yes and it did."

"Okay, let's move on to opportunity. You and Sara can place me in the lab at the time the vial disappeared."

Each answer like a block, Grissom kept building the tower waiting for Mike to smash it down. "Yes."

"Motive?"

He happily answered this one. "She wouldn't sleep with you so you drugged her."

Chuckling, Mike quipped, "I knew you would enjoy saying that." Counting off on his fingers, Mike summarized their progress. "Physical evidence, opportunity, motive…wow things aren't looking good for me. Hmm…what do I have left to defend myself? Any ideas?"

His voice teeming with resignation, Grissom answered the question. "Your story."

"Didn't enjoy saying that very much, did you?" Shaking his head, Mike unfurled an overly dramatic sigh. "My story will make things real messy for the county. Sheriff's gonna be pissed. Ecklie will have a field day. Yeah…Sara, you, me…we're all going down when this story gets out."

It was the only one of Mike's statements that Grissom knew to be absolutely true.

Loving every minute of it, Mike tossed a few more logs on the fire. "If Sara's motivation at work comes into question they'll have to review every case she worked on for you. They'll need to know if she was so eager to please you that she would do anything to solve a case…even tamper with evidence. Wait…didn't that already come up at a trial a couple a couple of years back? Something about her making a romantic gesture towards you while you were working a scene. She denied it and said she was wiping plaster off your face."

At this point, Grissom was no longer surprised at anything Mike said. "You really do your homework."

"I told you I tapped into the gossip mill." Grinning, Mike explained, "See, you're used to showing up and acquiring the facts when you work a scene. I prefer to gather all my facts up front."

Having grossly underestimated his opponent, Grissom remarked, "Because you never know when you're going to need to think on your feet and spin a story to cover your ass."

"You have your gifts, I have mine." Leaning in, Mike was ready to go for the kill. "Okay…I don't think I have to spell out the gravity of this situation any further, do I? I think its time to come up with a solution to my problem."

As if he didn't already know what Mike was going to say, Grissom sarcastically asked, "Do you really think you can?"

With the confidence of a poker player holding a royal flush, Mike revealed his hand. "The only way to keep my mouth shut is to drop the drug related charges. If the charges stay I start telling my story…the whole twisted tale. We both know it won't matter if they believe me or not. By the time I'm through, the damage will be done...especially to the already frail, Sara Sidle."

Left with no options, Grissom said the only thing he could. "I don't have the power to drop the charges but I'll make the suggestion."

"Wise choice. Of course we both know it's the _only_ choice if you want to save your ass and Sara's, not to mention preserve the integrity of the lab." Kicking his feet up on the table, Mike grinned. "So now that we got that out of the way, what else do you want to chat about, Gil?"

Mike was a braggart and Grissom desperately wanted answers, which meant right now they needed each other. "How about telling me the real story?"

"If you're sure you can handle it." Adjusting his collar, Mike chuckled, "You won't go postal again, will you?"

Grissom's voice turned icy. "I'll do my best."

"Here goes…I took the GHB. I had it in my pants pocket that night I walked out of the lab. I put it in Sara's margarita last night. Other than that everything else about my story is true…how she feels about you, how you treat her…all the sordid details. Yeah those things don't really change, do they, Gil? Feel better?"

Grissom's anger was temporarily delayed while he celebrated the knowledge that Sara didn't drug herself over him…over anything.

"I never intended for her to get so sick though. All I wanted to do was loosen her up so she could see what she was missing while she was pathetically waiting around for you. I didn't want to hurt her, I was hoping to keep her around for a while. Turning his eyes to the ceiling he said, "Hmm…maybe the bartender didn't listen to me when I said to go light on the tequila? Yeah well, unfortunately Sara didn't handle the G as well as other women."

Pulsating with anger, Grissom rose out of his chair, looming over Mike. "She didn't **_handle_** the **_G_** well because she already had allergy medication in her system. If that drink was any stronger you could have **_killed _**her!"

Excited that the match was back in play, Mike stood up and walked the room. "Let's compare our sins, shall we? You treated her like crap for_ years_! I just met her and look how I've treated her! I took her out, I respected her, I bought her flowers, I listened to her, I supported her…I felt _sorry_ for her."

Stopping in front of Grissom he innocently said, "Look, the reaction with the allergy medicine was an unforeseen complication. I slipped her a little liquid ecstasy to get her past her inhibitions…she's way too uptight. Hey, if it had gone down as planned, Sara would have had hours of pleasure before she passed out. She would have woke upthinkingshe wanted it. I guarantee youshe would havethanked me for showing her a good time...right before begging me to make love to her again! See...my intentions were good."

Like a rabid dog, Grissom snapped, "Good intentions?! You were going to rape her!"

"Well, since Sara hasn't gotten laid in years, I prefer the term mercy f…" A right hook to the jaw stopped Mike in mid-vulgarity. "Aww she's gonna love hearing you punched me for that one. Plus, I may be able to work the assault thing into my story. "

Grabbing Mike's collar, Grissom slammed him against the wall. Eyes blazing, he yelled, "Why Sara?!"

"You do realize I'm not fighting back, right?" Mike casually replied. "Why Sara? Because she was an easy mark…and so are you. That's the irony of the situation. The two of you are perfect for each other…both pathetic."

As Grissom tightened his grip he was grateful not to be wearing a firearm. "Pathetic is drugging a woman so you can sleep with her."

"And here I thought _not_ sleeping with a woman who _wants_ to sleep with you was pathetic. No wait…that's impotence."

Realizing he was playing right into Mike's hands, Grissom backed off.

Manically grinning, Mike continued to needle Grissom anxious to see what it would take to set him off again. "Lucky for you my plan didn't work because one night of passion with me and Sara would have finally seen you for the loser you really are. In case you're not tracking me again…that realization is an eventuality for Sara…I was merely expediting the process for her."

When he got no response, Mike figured out that Grissom's button wasn't ego, it was Sara. With that in mind, he decided to provide a little more detail. "I had to use the G to make it fun for me while I was doing my charity work. A girl as frigid as Sara wouldn't be any fun in the sack without it. Oh the things I had planned for her in bed, things she…" When the punch hit him Mike burst out laughing.

The sound of the conference room door opening halted the fray. Poking his head in, Brass feigned sweetness. "Hey, I was heading to the break room, can I get you guys some coffee?" One look at the situation and Jim knew he was right on time.

"No thanks, I'm done chatting." Mike replied in a sunny voice as he straightened his shirt. "My buddy Gil has enough to think about for today. Or do you need a parting thought?"

An inch from Grissom's ear, he taunted in a whisper, "One day you'll hear my story about Samantha Hatcher and her slutty twin sister Wendy. I think you'll enjoy it. Consider it our next round except I'll be fighting back. You bring the evidence and put the jury to sleep with the math. I'll take the stand and wake them up with my tearful rendition of the grieving boyfriend turned hero cop."

Taking a couple of steps back, Mike enjoyed the look on his opponent's face. "I think we both know who will win that one, don't we?"

As much as Grissom wanted to believe science would triumph over theater, after experiencing Mike's skill first hand, he filled with doubt.

Winking at Grissom, Mike said, "Give my best to Sara when you see her. Tell her I'm sorry things didn't work out last night."

"Okay, enough!" Brass signaled for the uniform to come in the room. "Take Mr. Rodgers out of this neighborhood and send him to the land of Make Believe whereI'm sure heand his bullshit story will feel right at home."

After Mike was removed to his holding cell, Grissom slammed the door and took advantage of the room's soundproofing by kicking a chair across the room. "Damn him!"

"Hey remember, we're guests here!" Brass crossed the room and righted the chair. "So I'm guessing Rodgers expanded on his _Sara framed him_ theory." As soon as Mike had told him he suspected Sara framed him, Brass figured out where he'd be going with the story. "Like any successful sociopath, he weaves a good tale doesn't care who gets hurt and only thinks of himself."

Furious, Grissom gripped the edge of the table. "We have to drop the drug charges."

"That bad huh?" From the request and the look on Grissom's face, he knew Mike had found a way to screw Sara after all.

Falling into a chair, Grissom reluctantly explained, "Sara left the vial unattended, we can't deny that. If we checked, we'd find Sara's prints on the jacket because I had Catherine take the jacket and put it in Sara's locker."

Exasperated, Grissom lowered his gaze to the floor. "Not that it matters. He has a story and no matter how erroneous it is, if he tells it he'll ruin Sara. She'd be thrown out of the lab. We have no choice; we have to drop the charges. That son of bitch is going to get away with it." At the mercy of his friend, Grissom asked, "Can you make it happen?"

"I'll talk to Bryant." Brass took a seat at the table. "Although the GHB was found in Tahoe it was stolen in Vegas so jurisdiction shouldn't be a problem. Actually, I'm sure they'll be happy to send us on our merry way and restore the peace and tranquility of this lovely mountain community."

"Will word get back to Ecklie?"

Confidently Brass replied, "No. Trust me. I'll handle it with Bryant…cop to cop. So don't worry. Besides, haven't you heard the new promo for Tahoe?" Playing on the current Vegas motto, he said, "What happens in Tahoe stays in Tahoe."

"Let's hope you're right."

"I won't let you down." Brass relaxed in his chair. "And one day, you'll think of something you can do for me...something _legal_ of course."

Nodding, Grissom acknowledged the deal. "That's a promise."

Concerned for his friend, Brass said, "I know if I ask, you'll tell me you're fine, so I'm not asking…I'm telling…you're not fine. You look like hell. Rodgers didn't just do a number on Sara, huh?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm shocked because you're usually so chatty at times like this." Noticing that sarcasm wasn't helping, he tried another approach. "Gil, don't be too hard on yourself. I've dealt with my fair share of sociopaths and this guy is the best I've seen in a while but he's not perfect." Brass reminded him, "Remember, we're still bringing him in on suspicion of murder. So you can't get him on the GHB. You'll nail his ass to the wall for Samantha Hatcher's murder."

"Yeah, don't be too sure." Reaching into his pocket he fumbled for his prescription bottle. "He's working on a story for that one too."

Not believing his ears, Brass exclaimed, "Are you telling me that you believe his fictional story will trump the physical evidence you present."

"I don't know what I believe at this point." His confidence faltering at the same expeditious rate as his migraine's return, Grissom gave a labored sigh. "I'll feel better once I see the girl's skull."

Chuckling, Brass retorted. "Now there's a phrase you don't hear often." With his cell phone in hand, Brass stood up. "Hey, I'll do anything to cheer you up. Let me make a few phone calls and see how quickly I can get you the corpse."

On his way to the water cooler, Grissom realized that he would have to tell Sara about the dropped charges.

Suddenly it dawned on him…he'd have to talk to Sara.

The events of the week overwhelming he wondered how he could put his thoughts into words.

Information overloaded his brain...his original motivations for investigating Mike, the intimate things only he knew Sara said to him at the resort, the powerful feelings he experienced last night as he held her hand…the aftershocks of the half-truths in Mike's story. So much to consider...so much to analyze.

As he swallowed a pill with a gulp of cold water, unnerving questions poured into his already troubled mind. When they saw each other, what would they say? Would she profess the same feelings she had the night before and if she did, how would he respond? What did he _want _to say? What did he want her to hear?

Fear gnawing him he wondered if he would be able to say anything at all.

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 **

After knocking on Sara's door, Catherine entered holding a suitcase and backpack. "I went to the resort and packed your stuff for you."

"Thank you." Sara replied in a grateful tone. "Now I can lose this hospital gown. It's making me ill thinking how many people probably wore this before me."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "It's a sterile environment and you're still worried about germs."

"If we swabbed the bathroom we'd find plenty."

Unzipping the suitcase, Catherine teased, "I found a surprising lack of lingerie in your hotel room."

"Why would I need to bring any?"

Intrigued by the foreign concept of taking platonic vacations, Catherine said, "You really weren't planning on sleeping with him, were you?"

"No. I wasn't going to sleep with him." She realized Catherine was looking at her like an alien life form. "That's why he drugged me, isn't it?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up."

"Catherine, I barely knew the guy. I don't sleep with guys I don't know. Mike Rodgers could be the new poster boy for abstinence from casual sex. Can't you see it? Right below his Mr. Nice Guy photo, wouldbe the words 'Hi, I'm vile scum in disguise'." She shuddered. "Just saying his name gives me the creeps. Let's change the topic."

"Okay. What would you like to wear? Drawstring pajama bottoms? Velour lounge pants?" Smiling, Catherine joked, "Sara…you do_ own_ lingerie, right? I mean just in case you ever know a guy well enough to sleep with him." Selecting the black lounge pants and a white cotton tee, Catherine tossed them on the bed. "You do realize that men are visual creatures, right? They all like a little leather or lace in the bedroom."

Turning three shades of red, Sara squirmed. "Yeah…um…let's change this topic too."

Grinning, Catherine took a peek out the window. "Nice weather outside."

"So what do you think is taking Grissom so long at the police station?" It was two hours since Catherine last spoke with him and the waiting fueled Sara's already high expectations.

Checking her watch, Catherine said, "Must be all the jurisdictional red tape keeping him."

"I'm sure you're right." Under the blanket she pulled on her pants. "Hmm…I wonder when the doctor is going to release me."

"Why don't I check with desk," Catherine said as she headed for the door.

"Thank you!" When Catherine left, Sara tossed the hospital gown to the floor and pulled on the fitted tee. "I can't wait to get out of here and get on with life."

When the bedside phone rang, Sara's heart skipped a beat. "Finally!" Grabbing the receiver she put it to her ear and warmly said, "Hello."

It was Nick.

"Sara! It's so good to hear your voice! I've been worried sick about you! I couldn't wait to talk to you once I knew you were awake."

It wasn't Grissom but at least it was a friendly voice. "Hey Nick."

Catherine had warned Sara that Nick was fraught with guilt over bringing Mike into her life. "Please don't worry. I'm fine."

"Catherine told me not to bug you but I couldn't wait to apologize. I'm so sorry, Sara. If I had any idea that bastard…"

"Trust me, Nick." Sara felt the hairs on her neck rise. "The creep is_ very_ good at lying. I won't rest easy until he is locked away and not just for my sake, for every woman who might cross his path."

"Well I'm doing my best to help put him there, believe me. No one messes with you and gets by me."

"Thanks." She smiled at his brotherly tone. "How lucky am I to have both you and Grissom protecting me."

"Speaking of Grissom." Nick chuckled. "The man almost killed me because I set you up with Mike. You should have seen him, Sara. He wasn't going to rest until you were safe. So…he must be taking good care of you."

"Well…" Sara checked her watch. "I haven't actually seen him or talked to him. I mean…he was here when I was unconscious but not since I woke up. He's talked to Catherine but um…not to me." A pang of concern bounced through her as she asked herself, why didn't he speak with me if he had time to speak with Catherine?

"Really?" Nick couldn't hide his surprise in his voice. "I thought for sure he'd want to hear your voice when you woke up. I know I couldn't wait."

"He's busy at the station…you know jurisdictional red tape." Suddenly Sara wasn't sure that was the reason at all. What if this was another retreat? Then she remembered everything Catherine told her about Grissom's emotional reaction and realized it was just her old insecurities playing with her mind. This time, she was certain he wouldn't pull away.

Catherine returned to the room and assumed Sara was on the phone with Grissom. "It's about damn time!"

"It's just Nick."

Catherine groaned. "I told him not to bother you."

"_Just_ Nick." His laughter shook the phone line. "I guess I know where I stand."

"Sorry." She was anxious to hear what her doctor said to Catherine. "Hey, I have to go...doctor stuff."

"Take care, Sara. Again…I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" Laughing she teased, "Don't you have some leggy blonde to help you take your mind off the guilt?" When he laughed, she did. "Yeah that's what I thought…goodbye." Hanging up the phone, Sara asked, "Is the doctor discharging me?"

"Sorry. The doctor said she wants you to stay overnight for observation but you can go home first thing tomorrow."

Incensed, Sara ranted, "But GHB is very short acting that's why it's usually impossible to find it in the victim's blood. The doctor obviously doesn't…"

Holding up her hand, Catherine halted Sara's tirade. "The doctor knows that. It's not the aftereffects of the drug she's observing, it's the fact that you almost fell into a coma and you're still very weak."

Swinging her legs out of bed Sara feigned bubbliness. "I'm fine. Look." Attempting to ignore her throbbing head and trembling limbs she lowered her feet to the floor. "I'm not going to sit here after that bastard drugged me. I want to help work the case."

Blocking Sara, Catherine gave her a dose of reality. "Look…the doctor is covering her ass just like us when we do our jobs. She's doesn't want you walking out of here only to collapse in the parking lot and sue her." Sighing, she added, "Besides you don't look fine, Sara. You look like hell."

Testing their new level of friendship, Sara teased, "You always think I look like hell."

"Okay but now I know the difference between your usual hell look and this version." Holding up the hospital blanket she waited for Sara to return to bed. "Good. Now stay there and I'll see if I can go find something to cheer you up. I saw they have Godiva in the gift shop."

Knowing what Sara needed was some_one_ not something, Catherine hoped she'd return with more than a chocolate bar. "Be right back."

* * *

After hanging up with Sara, Nick went to his fridge and grabbed a beer, hoping it would take the edge off enough to sleep. It was two o'clock in the afternoon and he desperately needed the rest before shift tonight. 

Taking hefty swigs from the bottle, he shuffled down the hall.

What a relief it was to know Sara was out of danger. He'd owe Grissom forever for saving her. The close call was bad enough but if Sara had been raped by Mike, Nick knew he never would have forgiven himself. After all, he encouraged her to go out with the bastard. His words still haunted him. _Sara, if he turns out to be an ass you can blame me for introducing you. _What was the punishment for Mike turning out to be sociopathic rapist and murderer?

Polishing off the contents of his amber bottle in one last chug, Nick set it on his nightstand.

Sighing he kicked off his shoes while pulling his gray sweater over his head and tossing it on a nearby chair.

Recalling his conversation with Sara in the locker room right before she left for Tahoe, he shook his head.

_Will you be spending some of your time off with Officer Mike?"_

"_As a matter of fact, yes. I just got off the phone with him. We're going to Tahoe. As friends…separate rooms…lots of OUTDOOR activities. I'm not you, Nick." _

"_Are you saying I'm loose?" _

"_See you in a week." _

"_You can thank me after the trip for hooking you up with him. I'm going to have to use that 'let's go to Tahoe as friends, separate rooms' line with someone. If it worked on you, Sara, it will work on anyone." _

After kicking his jeans across the floor he fell into bed.

It was never a game to her, he chided himself. She was looking for love, not a romp. Her words echoed once more. _I'm not you, Nick._ You had no business making a game out of her life.

He took some comfort in knowing one good thing came out of the Mike Rodgers fiasco. Grissom finally wised up. Now Sara would have the relationship she always wanted. Nick wondered if the positive was enough to relieve his guilt. Only time would tell.

Sliding toward the middle of the bed he felt something lacy brush against his toes. Reaching down he found a black thong. "Mimi." Sitting up, he tossed it toward the trash can in the corner of the bedroom.

Seeing the lacy scrap of fabric hanging on the edge of the can, it hit him. How many degrees of separation am I from Mike Rodgers? After I'm done with a woman I don't toss her off a cliff, I toss her out of my life. Why?

Falling back against the sheets, he stared at the ceiling. Am I still a little boy getting even for what one twisted woman did long ago? When will the score finally be settled? What will it take?

Turning on his side he peered into his open closet. Was there a dark secret behind every man's behavior? How did Mike's mind get so screwed up? Was he born that way or did something happen to make him tick differently? What about Grissom? What was his story? Why was it so difficult for him to start a relationship with Sara when he clearly had the desire? There had to be something. What? Did everyone have something hidden in their past that made them who they are today? Did Sara? What in her past made her so wary of people yet so attracted to Grissom?

Awake and haunted by questions he couldn't answer he wondered, could people really ever get over the hurt they harbored or did they always have to pass it along to someone else?

Trying to block out the light of day, Nick rolled on his stomach and buried his face in a pillow …a pillow that smelled like Mimi Donovan's peach scented conditioner. Wait was it Donovan or was it Donnelly? He couldn't recall.

Jumping out of bed, Nick decided to strip the sheets.

* * *

Returning from the gift shop, Catherine was thrilled to see Grissom speaking with Sara's doctor at the nurses' station. Impatiently she waited until he was through before jumping down his throat. "Why didn't you return my latest call? Did you even listen to my message?" 

Stuffing the Tox Report he received from the doctor in his coat pocket he huffed "I've been busy at the station. Things didn't go well."

Baffled by Grissom's curt tone, she scrunched her brows as she stared at him. "What's going on?" Leaning against the nurse's station she asked, "Are we going to handle the GHB charges here first and then have Rodgers brought back to Vegas or…"

"Catherine." Bleakly he said, "We had to drop all the drug related charges. There was no way to keep the charges and have Sara keep her job. The GHB went missing from the lab while she was responsible for it. Think about it, if Rodgers had used it on someone other than Sara…"

"Ugh. I should have seen that coming." Shaking her head she tried to find a positive. "At least he didn't have the opportunity to assault her. She'll have to be grateful for that since she won't be getting any other justice. How are you going to break the news?"

"About that…I'd like you to tell her because I'm on my way back to Vegas."

"What?!" Floored by his statement, she snapped. "Are you kidding me?! You can't leave!"

Averting his eyes from her shocked expression he explained. "Samantha Hatcher's exhumation is complete. By the time I get back to the city, I'll have a body waiting for me."

"You have a body waiting for you right here…a warm body. Sara has been through hell and she needs to see you." Hands on her hips, she stared him down. "If you have to rush back to Vegas that's fine but before you do you have to go in there and at least say hello."

"I can't."

Astonished by his answer, she prodded, "You can't? You can't because you don't have the time or because you don't have the inclination?"

Politely he replied, "Please tell her I'm glad she's feeling better and explain that I'm working the case."

"Why are you doing this? It was very obvious from your reaction last night how much you…" No, he wasn't ready to hear the L word. "…how much you _care _about Sara. Now that she's conscious, don't you want to go in there and talk about it?"

"Catherine…" Clutching his aching head with his hand, he lowered his voice and let her glimpse the hell he was experiencing. "I couldn't figure out what to do before all this happened. You have no idea how I just spent the last couple of hours…what I'm trying to process. I'm more confused than ever."

With a small dose of smart ass she replied. "Funny…you always tell us confused is the best place for a scientist to be, but you don't seem to be enjoying it at all."

"This has nothing to do with science. If it did I could figure it out." Admitting his newest Mike-induced concerns, he said, "To be honest, I'm not sure having me in her life is a good thing for Sara. Or maybe it's not a good thing for me. Maybe she's looking for me to replace something she's lost in her life but that's not a role I'm comfortable filling. Everything is so…I can't seem to figure anything out."

Softening, she took a step a closer. "Gil, you don't have to solve this on your own. Did you ever think that maybe you haven't been able to figure it out all this time because it's not something you _can_ solve alone? If you don't ask the whys you'll never know. Go see Sara. If you give it a chance, I bet the two of you can figure it out together."

Staring past Catherine, he looked longingly at Sara's door.

Seeing the wrestling match in his eyes, she fought the urge to push him both literally and verbally, finally giving in to the latter. "Don't think about it. Just do it."

With a conflicted mind, a bruised ego, a guilty subconscious and an aching heart all jockeying for control, try as he might, his feet remained glued to the floor.

A combination of devil and angel on his shoulder Catherine prodded, "You don't need a plan. Just walk in there and let it happen." Taking a step aside she watched his face as he processed the information.

Logically Grissom knew a personal relationship would complicate work. To support his theory he had to look no further than what just happened with Mike. The GHB charges were dropped due to the complications of personal matters.

Challenging the theory he posited…would the complications have existed if the relationship was real? Wasn't the _uncertainty _in their relationship what Mike exploited? Wasn't it the _absence _of a relationship that caused Sara to leave? Wasn't it vulnerability Mike preyed upon? Which left him wondering, if Sara and he were in a relationship would the vulnerability go away or would it grow?

Without a clear answer, he focused on next factor…his self-esteem.

Rodgers had made a fool of him earlier and even though they were the callous words of a sociopath, he couldn't block them. '_Lucky for you my plan didn't work because one night of passion with me and she would have seen you for the loser you really are. That realization is an eventuality for Sara…I was expediting the process for her.' _Had Rodgers, due to his skill, figured out his deepest fear and exploited it or was he merely telling the truth? After all these years of anticipation, how could Sara's expectations possibly be met?

Next, his subconscious weighed in asking, what about the dark side of Mike's story? Why do the two of you act the way you do? What are you getting from her? What does she really want from you? Beneath the ugly exaggerations in Mike's twisted story, it tore him apart to realize there was some truth in what he said about Sara…about him. The relationship isn't healthy. Could it ever be? What would it take to make it possible?

Fighting to be heard, his heart finally shouted loud enough.

Closing his eyes Grissom focused on its message. His heart reminded him of the horror he felt the night before when Sara's heart rate plummeted in the emergency room. It reminded him of the jubilation he experienced when he was told by the doctor that Sara was out of danger. And what about Sara? The message grew louder still. She needs you to comfort her…to protect her…to tell her she's special. It's what she always needs from you but right now she needs it more than ever.

Opening his eyes, Grissom once more focused on Sara's door. Maybe Catherine was right. If he went in there, he and Sara could work through the issues together. They were both intelligent people how hard could it be?

As he learned in the hospital last night, love was a roller coaster of emotion. Since he loved roller coasters why wouldn't he want to go for a ride? In a flash his mind and ego joined forces to answer the question. No matter how thrilling or rewarding the ride…it always…without exception…ends.

Before his heart could counter the point, the beep of his pager caught his ear. Pulling it off its clip he read Brass's message. Flight in 1 hour. Corpse waiting in autopsy.

Carefully, he considered the offer_. Corpse waiting in autopsy._ Autopsy…where everything was illuminated by brilliant lights. A place where latex gloves made contact with the flesh impossible. A place where two-way communication wasn't an option. A place where all questions were a matter of science and the answers revealed themselves.

Lifting his eyes, he watched a nurse enter Sara's room. Sara is only twenty feet away. Her smile is only twenty feet away. The beautiful beginning to a loving relationship is only twenty feet away…a beautiful beginning which could eventually lead to a horrible ending.

Glancing down at the pager he read the words again. _Corpse waiting in autopsy._ Autopsy…a safe haven from the storm. A place where his motives wouldn't be questioned. A place where no one could hurt him. A place where he couldn't hurt anyone. A place where everything made sense.

Glancing over at Catherine, in a tormented voice Grissom announced, "I…I have to go. Will you tell Sara that I'm working the Hatcher case and I'm glad she's feeling better?"

Disappointment and irritation fueled her reply. "Sorry, no can do. I'm going to the Ladies' room. After that I'm going to peek in Sara's room and if you're in there I'm hopping the next flight to Vegas." Her eyes narrowed. "If you're not in there, then I'm telling Sara exactly what she _needs _to hear."

Turning on a dime Catherine advised, "Choose wisely."

A minute later, Grissom made his choice.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22 **

Inching open Sara's hospital room door, Catherine hoped beyond reason to see Grissom sitting on the edge of the bed holding Sara's hand. From her years of first hand experience, she knew life is full of disappointments. Today would be no different.

As she stepped into Sara's room, her shoulders sank from the weight of the burden but she forced a sunny tone. "I'm back." Maintaining an outward appearance of happiness while dying on the inside was a skill she had used many times over the years and she wore the saccharine smile well.

"Look I'm still resting," Sara said with a dash of impatience. Still _waiting_.

Reaching into the paper sack she was holding, Catherine produced a dark chocolate Godiva bar. "Your reward for good behavior." She tossed it on the bed knowing there wasn't enough sugar in the candy to coat what she had to say.

"Thanks." Promptly Sara unwrapped the bar and took a bite. "I'm starving. When they brought lunch earlier there was a big piece of ham touching everything. I couldn't bring myself to eat any of it."

Although she was certain Sara would be losing her appetite, Catherine replied, "I'll make sure the nurse knows you're a vegetarian."

"Thanks." She continued to chomp on the chocolate bar.

So far it was going well, Sara wasn't asking about Grissom and if she didn't ask, Catherine wouldn't have to tell.

After swallowing a big bite of creamy chocolate, Sara remarked, "I can't believe it's taking Grissom so long at the station. Thank god things move faster in Vegas. Knowing him, he must be so frustrated."

Catherine froze. So much for don't ask, don't tell. If only she hadn't made Grissom sound so damn heroic when she related the details of the story. Her intentions were to set him up for a warm reception, not build Sara up for a fall. After seeing Grissom clutching Sara's hand and worrying about her, she _never_ considered he would pull back rather than move forward. Silently she cursed herself. Nice job, Willows. If you can't maintain a stable relationship yourself why did you think you were remotely qualified to bring other people together?

Perplexed by her co-worker's uncharacteristic silence, Sara set her half-eaten candy bar on the bedside table and cautiously inquired, "Is there something you're not telling me? Is Grissom okay? Did something happen to him?"

Seeing her worry about him only made the situation more difficult. "He's fine, Sara." Not that she believed her assessment.

Glancing around the room Catherine wished someone else was here to share the load. Not that she was used to sharing her burdens with anyone. But for once it would be nice. "Sara…" Pulling up a chair she plopped down and opted for the direct approach. "He's not coming to see you."

The shock caused Sara's words to wedge in her throat.

"I know this is hard to hear." Catherine gulped. It was killing her to say it. "He's on his way back to Vegas."

After inhaling a sharp breath, Sara's words dislodged. "Maybe you didn't hear the message right."

Denial was a powerful thing and Catherine watched Sara succumb to it. "I'm positive. He just told me."

Glancing over at the bedside table, Sara countered, "But you left your cell phone in the room."

Catherine's mouth opened but she didn't have the heart to say how she found out. Turns out she didn't have to.

"He was here? Now? When you left my room?" The truth overwhelmed her. "He …he was right out there but he didn't come to see me."

Even though it wasn't her place, Catherine apologized. "I'm so sorry, Sara."

Frantic for a good explanation she said, "What did he say?!"

"He said…" Running her fingers through her hair she sighed. "Tell her I'm working the Hatcher case and I'm glad she's feeling better."

"Feeling better?" Gripped with disappointment, Sara asked, "That's odd considering I feel worse than I did this morning. I'm not sure I understand how he thought I'd be feeling better after finding out he was two seconds away from me and couldn't even bother to check on me. Hell…if he couldn't look at me why couldn't he call or even write a note. I can't believe he asked you to speak for him! To say the words he couldn't tell me himself!"

"I…I wish I knew what to say." Catherine sank lower in her chair.

Swallowing hard, she remarked in a voice as hurt as her heart, "I don't understand."

Catherine turned her eyes to the ceiling. "I don't know about you but I'm ready to accept that Grissom is a puzzle that can't be solved. He has issues. It's not that he doesn't care about you. He's very confused and has all these unanswered questions in his head. I think if he spoke with you he could solve some of them but he can't get past the fear."

"Are you making excuses for him?"

"No. I'm not defending his actions. This was a crappy thing to do to you. Hell, it was a crappy thing to do to me!"

Deflated, Sara crashed against the bedding. "I thought I couldn't possibly feel more stupid than I did this morning when you told me about the real Mike. How could I let myself think for one minute that Grissom would…"

"It's not you, Sara." Catherine vehemently shook her head. "I was with him from the moment he believed you might be in danger, it was killing him. Last night when I spoke to him on the phone from your room he was an emotional wreck. I don't know if he would have bounced back if you didn't make it. When I showed up this morning he was asleep clutching your hand." Not sure what to make of her observations, she summed up her thoughts by saying, "Apparently, when you're unconscious he has no problem expressing his feelings. He just can't do it when you're awake."

Anger building, Sara snapped, "So are you saying that if I had lapsed into a coma we would have lived happily ever after? That's hardly a healthy relationship. Not that this one is much better."

Frustration building, Catherine commiserated. "Look, I can only imagine how frustrating this is for you because it's really pissing me off."

"Frustrated?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Why? Because this experience made me feel so much closer to him while it apparently made him want to run without looking back?"

Folding her arms tightly she let her exasperation show. "My last relationship…I found my boyfriend banging a cocktail waitress on his desk when I showed up for a date." Rolling her eyes, she groaned. "Maybe all men are puzzles not worth solving."

"So what does Grissom think? We won't mention any of this and everything will be status quo? I'll show up for shift and we'll pretend none of this ever happened. I can't do that. I can't see him and pretend I don't know how he feels. It was bad enough when I didn't know how he felt." Dropping her head in her hands, she tried to hide the rawness burning in her eyes. "But now…when I feel so strongly. I can't do it anymore."

Steadying herself with a cleansing breath, Catherine dished out the cold hard truth. "A successful business woman once told me, there are a lot of things you can give a man…your body, your time and even your heart. But the one thing you can never, ever let go of is your power." Advice Catherine always respected. Advice she drew upon that night she walked out of Chris' office.

Sniffling, Sara asked, "What kind of business was this woman running?"

"Suffice it to say she ran a lucrative domain." Continuing her empowerment speech, Catherine advised, "Sara, you've given more than enough of yourself. It's time. Take back your power. Stop letting him dominate the situation. Stop worrying about hurting him and do what you need to do to help yourself. Even if he calls tonight, even if you go back to Vegas tomorrow and he throws you a breadcrumb of hope…don't settle. Don't stop thinking of yourself. Stand your ground, no matter what he says, no matter how he tries to manipulate you, unless he says the words you need to hear…don't give an inch." Giving a supportive smile, she said, "He may be the boss at work but you are in charge of your life."

Reaching for a tissue, Sara blew her nose. "Would you grab my daytimer from my suitcase."

"Sure."

Clearing her throat, Sara asked. "Can I use your cell? Mine is still broken."

"Go ahead." She handed her the book. "I should leave."

"No." Looking for courage Sara said, "I'd like you to stay."

"Okay." Taking a seat she watched Sara open her daytimer and punch in a series of numbers.

Clutching the phone, Sara steadied her breathing. Unlike before she had no urge to disconnect the call. When the voicemail greeting ended, Sara left her message. "David. It's Sara Sidle getting back to you. I've made my decision. I'll take the job. I'm looking forward to moving back to San Francisco. I'll be back in Vegas tomorrow and I'll call you then to go over the details. Thanks."

Catherine wasn't expecting that particular decision. "Sara…I'm confused."

"I had that in the works already after the last Grissom disappointment. That's why I came to Tahoe. To get away and clear my head so I could make a decision." Handing the phone to Catherine she explained, "Most likely I would have chickened out but now…it's the solution to my problem. I won't have to hide my feelings in San Francisco because he won't be there to see."

Like a child who just found out her parents are getting divorced, Catherine wanted to keep the family together. "Are you sure about this? Nick and Warrick are going to be so upset. Couldn't you switch shifts or…"

"Your speech convinced me. It's the right decision."

"Great, now it's my fault! The guys are going to kill me." Standing up, she put her cell phone in her pocket. "I'm going to get some of that mountain air."

"Catherine…you're not going to call Grissom and tell him, are you?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm already traumatized enough from telling you what he said. There's no way I'm telling him you're leaving. I'm through being the messenger. He has to hear it directly from the source."

"Thanks."

After walking out of Sara's room, Catherine hurried out of the building.

Once outside she crossed the street and headed to the neighborhood park. When she took a seat on a stone bench she grabbed her cell phone.

After punching in Warrick's speed dial code, she checked her watch and realized he was probably sleeping.

"Hello."

"I woke you, didn't I?" Rolling her eyes she said, "You're coming off a double too. I'm sorry."

"Hey. Don't sweat it."

Sighing, she groveled, "I needed someone to talk to, are you up for conversation? I'll warn you, it's not a good one."

"I'm all ears."

Relieved she could lighten her load, she smiled. "Grissom and Brass are on the way home. Sara and I are still here."

"Why are you with Sara and not Grissom?"

Exasperated, a tension-fueled chuckle spilled out. "Isn't that the question of the hour! He left Tahoe without ever talking to her."

"What? You're not serious."

"He made me tell her he wasn't coming to see her without even giving me a good reason. Not that there could be one good enough." Shaking her head her voice cracked. "The look on her face…I'm so angry with him right now but at the same time I could tell it was killing him to leave and I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for both of them."

"Abandoning Sara in the hospital isn't cool. It kills me to say this because you know how I feel about Grissom and what he's done for me but Catherine…I'm having a hard time accepting he could walk out on her without a word."

She understood where he was coming from. "Your dad?" Warrick's father, or donor, as he referred to him was never in his life.

"Yeah. A real man doesn't sneak away and make someone else deliver the bad news to the one he left behind. What would make him do that to Sara when she's at her lowest? Is he pissed because she went to Tahoe with Mike in the first place? Maybe it didn't sink in until after she was out of danger and now he's angry."

"I don't know! But if that was the case then why not tell her and give her a chance to explain." Lowering her gaze to the ground, she said, "It doesn't make sense. There has to be something else going on with him."

* * *

From his window seat on the 737, Grissom watched Lake Tahoe fade into the distance. By now Sara would know he was gone and he shuddered to think of her reaction to his cowardly move. 

"Hey." Brass nudged Grissom with his elbow. "The flight attendant is asking if you want a drink."

Sliding the window cover down to block the view he wearily replied, "Just some water please."

Holding a tiny bottle of Jack Daniels, Brass debated out loud. "Hmmm…am I on the clock or off the clock?"

"Planes don't have clocks." Grissom grumbled as unfastened his seat belt. "They don't want passengers constantly reminded of the time they're losing getting from point A to point B." A concept he was painfully aware of having wasted plenty of his forty eight years excelling professionally while getting nowhere personally.

Content with the irrelevance of Grissom's answer, Brass twisted open the bottle and poured its contents over the cup of ice the flight attendant had left. Raising his cup he toasted, "Here's to finding a skull fracture that perfectly compliments our blood spatter so we can lock up Mikey with some new friends who will be thrilled to show an ex-cop a _really_ good time."

Offended by the remark, Grissom snipped, "Jim, you know I would never make evidence fit a theory. I'm a Scientist; my objectivity is paramount to what I do. If I lose my objectivity then I lose myself."

"Yeah I know." Polishing off his drink, Brass wiped his lips. "Your dedication to objectivity has pissed me off on more than one occasion. Almost pisses me off as much as your smugness when you point out my inconsistencies."

Not amused, Grissom rolled his eyes before checking his watch.

Not happy that Grissom left Sara twisting in the wind back in Tahoe, Brass decided he had a point to make. Curling his whiskey tinged lips into a smirk, he said, "Remember when you asked me to breech protocol and pull Mike's file for you? Out of curiosity, where was your objectivity then? Taking five in the break room? Just because Mike turned out to be a creep doesn't change your original motivation either. Face it, you're human like the rest of us which means you're flawed."

Vexed by the unexpected criticism, Grissom remained silent.

"What did you say? Lose your objectivity then you've lost yourself?" Reclining his seat Brass made his final remarks on the matter. "I guess you are lost, which at least explains why you're on this flight to Vegas instead of back in Tahoe talking to Sara. This thing with her…whatever it is…it's FUBAR now." Closing his eyes for a power nap, he sighed. "I'm disappointed in you, Gil. What kind of a guy leaves a vulnerable woman without even saying goodbye?"

Sitting back, Grissom closed his eyes and in silence answered Jim's question…my father. Grissom knew first hand when the going gets tough sometimes loved ones choose to get going rather than stay and deal with the drama. It was his father's choice many years ago.

When Grissom's mother went deaf she couldn't handle the loss. Mourning for her old life, she became reclusive, leaving her husband confused. Convinced her husband no longer loved her because of her deficiency; she shut him out before ever giving him a chance to prove he could deal.

Unable to cope with his wife's actions, Grissom's father became increasingly frustrated. Frustration soon gave way to anger and when he finally had reached his limit, he walked away.

Separation and divorce are never easy on children and more often than not children are eyewitnesses to the pain and suffering. On the sidelines they shield their eyes so they won't see the hatred. They cover their ears so they won't hear the horrific words or the smashing of glass. In corners and in rooms they hide, waiting for the battle's end, waiting for the silence to return. They look around the house that used to be a home and wish they had be warned because if they had known, they wouldn't have allowed themselves to grow attached.

Separation and divorce are never easy on a child but in the Grissom household it was torture…_daily _torture.

In the Grissom household, where fighting spouses suddenly spoke different languages, the child wasn't expected to be a silent witness to the trauma…he was expected to be the translator.

"_Gil, tell your mother that I'm done! Through! This is no way to live!" _

_Turning to his mother, he signed the words with shaky little fingers while trying not to look in her eyes. _

_Then he waited for her reply and after she gave it he did what was expected…he told his father. _

_In a six year old's innocent voice Gil delivered the harsh reply. "She said…go…you don't want to be here…you don't want me anymore…um…her anymore…she said, get out!" _

"_Fine! You tell her I'm leaving and I'm not coming back!" _

_As the translator, Gil Grissom delivered the message. As a boy, he cried. _

In the six months between his parents' first skirmish and their final battle, young Gil couldn't shield his ears because he had to hear his father's words. He couldn't shield his eyes because he had to see his mother's hands. He couldn't hide in a corner because he had to stand in the middle. The painful words, the bitter looks, the heartbreak…these weren't things he watched. Being in the middle, being the voice, he lived it.

The day his father walked out and the fighting finally ended young Gil Grissom was relieved. His job was done. Now he could retreat into his own world and never have to feel those horrible things again.

Sitting on a plane moving further and further away from his heart's desire Grissom wondered, who am I? Am I my father's son, abandoning Sara in her hour of need? Or am I my mother's son, pushing Sara away before she ever had a chance to prove she would stay? Or am I the confused little boy waiting for someone to reassure me that two people in love don't always end up destroying each other?


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Yanking off his latex gloves, Grissom gave a huge sigh of relief. In the sanctuary known as autopsy, he finally felt balanced again. "I'm through here, Doc."

"What is going on with you today, Gil? You walk in here looking like a lost little boy. You work like a madman barely saying a word. You checked your findings multiple times. It's not like you to doubt your work." Stopping in front of him, Doc Robbins stared into his weary eyes. "When was the last time you slept?"

Smiling for the first time in days, Grissom confidently replied, "I don't know why I had any doubts I'd solve this case." His smile widening as he tossed a quote. "And where the offense is let the great axe fall."

"Ah…Shakespeare…that's a good sign."

Grissom beamed. "Loosely translated…now someone, who truly deserves to hear the phrase, bend over Sweetie, will be going to prison for a long, long time." He had failed Sara in every other way but not when it came to bringing her justice.

"The Bard's version isn't half as elegant as yours." Shaking his head Doc took a seat on his stool. "From lost to cocky in less than two hours…nice work but aren't you forgetting to thank the person who helped you solve the case?"

"Sorry, Doc." Grissom headed for the door. "Thanks."

"I wasn't talking about me." Pointing to the exhumed corpse lying on the steel table, he said, "I was talking about Samantha Hatcher. You didn't solve this puzzle on your own, Gil. She had half the answers."

Tilting his head, Grissom stared at Doc. "What did you just say?"

"Have you had a follow-up since your surgery?" Certain if his friend wasn't losing his hearing he must be losing his mind, Doc repeated his observation. "I said you didn't solve this puzzle on your own. Samantha Hatcher had half the answers."

Grissom glanced over at the corpse then returned his gaze to Doc. "Catherine just said the same thing."

"Catherine's not here, Gil." Apparently he was suffering from a hearing problem…hearing voices in his head.

Remembering his conversation with Catherine earlier today Grissom replayed her words…_"Did you ever think that maybe you're not able to figure it out because it's not something you can solve alone? Go see Sara. If you give it a chance, I bet the two of you can figure it out together." _

Suddenly it was obvious. When analyzing a relationship with Sara, his conclusion not to take a risk was based on _his_ fears. He never gave Sara a chance to present her reasons why she felt so strongly it would work. It was equivalent to analyzing half a crime scene. Without the information from the other half how could you ever know the truth?

If given the chance, would Sara have the answers to reassure him? Reassure him that there could be a different outcome than the one he had suffered vicariously through his parents?

In order to ask his questions he would need to find his voice. Time after time it had failed him when fear took it prisoner. He knew it was a cowardly approach not to mention unrealistic, but if only he knew the answers up front, he would have no problem asking the questions.

Standing there, under the bright lights of the autopsy room, he realized the answers had already been revealed to him. Closing his eyes he whispered, "Give light and the darkness will disappear itself." One by one, the memories washed over him.

Sara standing in his hallway, her eyes filled with pain. "Y_ou know, I remember the first smile but the funny thing is we've never shared a kiss but look…I'm still crying." _

Sara in his office explaining in a bittersweet voice, why she had pushed for a relationship even though it would be complicated. _"I was listening to my heart instead of using my head."_

Sara in Tahoe. "_You were worried things wouldn't work out between us because you thought I would get disenchanted and leave you. You think I have some schoolgirl fantasy in my head that I want you to fulfill and if you don't live up to it I'll leave skid marks as I run out the door. That would never happen. Never."_

Her caress of his cheek in the resort garden as she poured out her heart The same caress she had given two years ago when they stood outside an apartment building in dusty forensics coveralls. "_I don't want a fantasy. I need someone to share my reality and that someone is you. It's always been you. No relationship is perfect but we can make it work. I know we can because I love…"_ Moments later she spoke the last word through her passionate kiss…the kiss of a woman who wanted him, not the kiss of an impulsive little girl looking to fill a need.

Grissom knew people lied. He also knew people under the influence of the truth-serum also known as GHB _can't_.

Opening his eyes, he reached the joyful conclusion. Sara loves me. She's loved me for years. All those times I retreated, she didn't leave. She stayed even when I was confused and distant. She's given me chances and when I turned them down she didn't run. She's already passed the test. I've been a fool.

Then he felt guilty. The GHB had given Sara amnesia so she didn't know he was privy to the intimate information. It was as if he had stood behind two-way glass eavesdropping while Sara shared her heart's desires. Now only one question remained…what to do with the gift of enlightenment?

Doc stood staring at his long-time friend. "Gil…you have that look on your face."

"What look?"

"The look you always get when you realize you have the answer to something that's been driving you crazy for a long time." Chuckling, he said, "It usually precedes you dashing out of here with a huge grin plastered on your face."

Cracking a huge grin, Grissom bolted out of the room.

Shaking his head, Doc flipped off the overhead lights. "Though this be madness, yet there is method in it."

* * *

Throwing her purse over her shoulder Catherine asked Sara one more time. "Now you're sure you don't want me to stay? I can reschedule my flight." 

"Thank you but no. The doctor is observing me overnight, so you don't have to." Shooing her, she insisted. "Go home." Unable to maintain her brave face for a minute longer, she had to make Catherine leave. "Now, Catherine."

"Okay." She felt comfortable leaving because Sara was doing remarkably well for a woman who had been through so much in the last twenty-four hours.

Holding up the People magazine Catherine had bought her, Sara feigned one last smile. "Don't worry about me; I'll be busy catching up on pop culture."

Chuckling, Catherine grabbed her jacket. "Start with Ashton Kutcher on page thirty-two. Now there's a hottie! How can I not love a guy who is twenty-something and dates a forty-two year old woman."

In perfect monotone, Sara replied, "Yeah, I'll be sure to check him out."

At the door Catherine turned serious. "Call me if you need anything."

"Have a good flight."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

Once Catherine left the room, Sara tossed the gossip rag on the bedside table and burrowed under the covers.

It wasn't the first time Sara Sidle was left alone in a cold room, in a building full of strangers, in an unfamiliar town. She had been here before…many times before. Curled up in a bed that wasn't her own, wondering if she would ever know what love and stability felt like, she was reminded of a scary time years ago.

_Walking up to the door of the apartment building, Peg Hewitt, the caseworker assigned to Sara, said, "Mrs. Jacobs, is going to be your foster care provider for a while. She's a very nice woman. I'm sure you'll be happier here than the last place." _

_Clutching her backpack full of books, nine year old Sara remained silent. Her life as she knew it was gone. Not that her life had been ideal before she was turned over to the county but at least it was her own. _

_After Peg Hewitt knocked, Mrs. Jacobs, a pencil thin woman with a tired smile, answered the door. "This must be Sara Sidle." _

"_Yes. Can you say hello, Sara." _

_In lieu of words Sara raised her hand in a half-wave. _

"_She's quite shy." Peg Hewitt announced. "It's only been a few months, she's still adjusting." _

_Mrs. Jacobs opened the door further. "Let's get her settled. Hopefully she can stay for a while but it seems like the county is moving kids around all the time." _

_As she entered the house, Sara acquainted herself with surroundings, taking cautious steps and looking for evidence to convince her that this place would be different than the last. _

"_Right this way, Sara." Mrs. Jacobs said as she opened a bedroom door. "You'll be staying in here. Why don't you unpack your stuff and I'll finish the paperwork with your caseworker." _

_When the door shut and Sara was alone in the room she took an inventory with her eyes. All the essentials were there…a bed, a nightstand, a lamp, a chair, a closet. What was missing was obvious...warmth._

_After carefully placing her backpack on the chair, she climbed under the bed covers. Curling into a ball she fought the chill overtaking her. Trembling as she lay in the strange room, in a building full of strangers, in an unfamiliar town, she wondered if she would ever know love and stability again. _

"Sara!" Bubbly Nurse Susie Johnson bounded in carrying a vase. "I have something for you!"

Shivering, Sara slowly sat up and answered the nurse while stealthily wiping away a tear. "Yes?"

Mesmerized by the bountiful bouquet of sky blue flowers the nurse was holding, Sara asked, "Are you sure those are for me?" Instantly she noticed how they warmed up the bleak room. "They're beautiful."

"They are indeed!" Nurse Johnson handed her patient a white envelope. "Here's the card." Placing the vase on the bedside table she smiled. "They're forget-me-nots so they must be from someone who wants to make sure you remember him." Winking she took a guess. "Like the guy who was holding your hand this morning?"

For a moment Sara got her hopes up but then chided herself for being foolish. They had to be from Catherine, who was still trying to make up for Grissom's actions. Regardless, Sara was happy for the way they brightened the room.

Sliding the card out of its tiny envelope her eyes widened as her stomach flipped. "I don't believe him."

_Dearest Sara, I'm really sorry things didn't work out as planned. Sincerely, Mike_.

Having anticipated a very different and much less offensive message, Sara gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

The nurse giggled, "That good huh?"

Sickened by Mike's disgusting display of arrogance, she crumpled the card and tossed it across the room. Through gritted teeth she ordered the nurse, "Take them out of here!"

"What? Why?"

"Because they're from him!" Sara's shock lit into fury. "Take them out before I throw them!"

Grabbing the vase, the nurse asked, "Would you like me to see if the doctor would authorize a sedative?"

"No! I don't need a sedative I just want to be left alone!" Outraged, that Mike, who had failed to violate her body, had found an alternative way to victimize her, she shrieked, "No more deliveries! No calls! No visitors!"

While making a hasty exit with the vase, the nurse replied, "I'll make sure everyone knows to leave you alone."

Dropping her head in her hands, Sara fought back the urge to vomit. "I can't believe him!" Humiliated, angry and sick to her stomach she jumped out of bed and hurried into the bathroom. With her clothes still on she stepped into the shower and turned on the water, hoping to wash away the horrible feelings overtaking her.

There, in the privacy of her hospital shower, hot water gushing down over her exhausted body and overtaxed mind, Sara sobbed uncontrollably. This time, unlike all those other times over the years, she wasn't crying for another victim. She was the victim.

* * *

After tossing his jacket in his locker, Nick took a seat on the bench. Rubbing his hands over his face he inhaled sharply. 

"Hungover?" Ecklie asked while slinking around the corner like a jackal. "Party a little too hard between shifts?" Reaching in his pants pocket he pulled out his car keys. "What was her name? Candy or Brandy?"

Ignoring the bait, Nick stood up and closed his locker.

Ecklie folded his arms across his chest and stood in Nick's path. "What's going on around here, Stokes? I know Grissom is hiding something from me. Tell me. I can make life easier around here for you if you play the game. I didn't get where I am without forming a few alliances and you'd be wise to form one with someone other than Grissom." With pleasure blanketing his face he added, "Because his days are numbered."

Posturing back, Nick replied, "All we're doing around here is working cases. We work our shift; we pull doubles, sometimes triples. That's all we're doing…working hard for the county." Anger mounting he said, "Have you forgotten what the job is about? We nail the bad guys. Why the hell do you spend so much time trying to bring down the team? We're supposed to be on the same side. Seems to me you're not focused on the right priorities."

Putting his hand against a locker, Ecklie blocked Nick's exit. "Here's a news flash, Stokes. I'm in charge now and you'll respect me and my decisions or you'll be out the door."

On edge from no sleep and a guilty conscience, Nick spoke without a filter. "You earned your promotion by kissing ass, not solving cases. As far as respect goes…" His voice turned icy. "…you'll never have mine."

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me."

Incensed, Ecklie snapped, "When I return in the morning I'm opening a full investigation on Grissom…on all of you! If I didn't have very special plans tonight I would start this second! When I'm done you'll see the error of your ways!"

Nick batted Ecklie's arm from the locker. "With all due respect…go to hell!" Without looking back he walked out of the room. As soon as hit the hallway, he knew he had crossed the line with Ecklie. "Damn it!" Now team would feel the wrath because of him. Great…two things to feel guilty about.

* * *

After taking a seat behind the wheel of his car, Grissom fumbled for his cell phone and the number for the Tahoe Medical Center. 

Buzzing with confidence, Grissom confidently punched numbers into the phone. After four rings, the hospital operator finally answered and he said, "Room 267, please."

Uncharacteristically lucid about his feelings he couldn't wait for Sara to answer. After apologizing for leaving her he would explain how he felt…why he acted the way he had. For the first time, he would speak to her straight from the heart.

If forgiven, he would be on the next flight to Tahoe. When he got there, he would take her hand and ask that they pick up where they left off, forgetting the last twelve hours of doubt and pain. It was time to move forward and leave the past behind.

Seconds seemed like hours as he gripped the phone tighter and wondered what was taking so long. Six rings later the phone clicked and he heard a female voice say, "Station four, Nurse Johnson."

Breathless with anticipation he said, "Yes, I'm trying to connect to room 267, Sara Sidle." Much to his chagrin, the nurse gruffly replied, "I'm sorry Ms. Sidle has asked not to be disturbed."

Grissom prodded, "Please, can you ask her if she'll take my call. It's important that I speak with her right now." Now before the clarity was gone.

When the voice on the other end of the line replied, "Look Sir, it's none of my business but…haven't you upset her enough already today? Your childish behavior made her hysterical. She's asked not to be disturbed…no deliveries, no calls, no visitors. Now if you'll excuse me I have work to do. Good night."

Closing his eyes he slumped back in his seat. His epiphany was twelve hours too late.

* * *

As Catherine emerged from gate 17 at McCarran she carried her heavy brief case on her already weighted shoulders. 

"Hey." Warrick called over from his position against the check-in counter.

Catherine lips curved into a grateful smile. "Hey."

Everything about him brightened her night…his sexy stance, the jeans that fit him just right, the way his shirt fell open, his inviting smile but most of all, his eyes that were saying I know you had a rough day. After a day of surprises both good and bad Catherine didn't think she could stomach one more but this one was definitely most welcome. "What are you doing here? I didn't tell you know my flight number."

Walking over, he answered in a smooth voice, "Grissom's not the only one who can track down a woman." Slipping her briefcase of her shoulder he slung it over his and flashed a sexy smile. "Welcome back."

"Glad to be back." A spark of excitement twinkled in her eye. "This is a really sweet of you."

"Well…unlike Grissom, I don't like leaving a woman stranded." Pointing to his watch, he said, "You need a ride to work and you have no car."

"You're right!" She had forgotten Grissom drove to the airport when they went to Tahoe." Smiling brighter, she said, "Thanks." Checking her watch she realized shift started an hour ago. "We have a call yet?"

"Not yet." Side by side they started walking down the passageway. "I just sent Nick out to meet Brass. They have a DB at The Pussycat Motel"

"Ugh! Thanks for sparing me from that sleaze palace." Shivering she said, "Remember the last time we processed a case there? I swear DNA was dripping from the ceiling."

"Yeah." He laughed. "I told Nick to wear a hat."

She laughed with him. It was a nice change of pace after such a downer of a day.

Get any sleep?" Warrick asked with concern in his voice.

"I had a couple of hours before my flight…just long enough for a power nap and a conversation with my daughter." Rolling her eyes she said, "Not that I would call it a conversation exactly…she spent most of the time hounding me for a pair of $200 sneakers."

Reaching the elevator he reached for the button. "You buying 'em?" He knew she would.

Sighing she replied, "I told her I would."

When the doors opened, Warrick's pager buzzed. "We got a hit and run on Jackson."

"No rest for the weary." Flattening herself against the back wall of the empty elevator, Catherine sighed. "Wait…why are you still in charge if Grissom is back?"

Grinning, he replied, "I was wondering when you were going to ask me that. He called me at home earlier and said he was calling Sara then heading to Tahoe. You probably passed him mid-flight."

"Really?! That's great." She couldn't believe it. Then she remembered Sara's decision. "Grissom is going to be surprised when he talks with her. She accepted a job in San Francisco earlier today. She's resigning."

"Hell, I don't blame her for not wanting to work with Grissom. The man last saw her unconscious at the hospital and never went back to check on her." Shaking his head he huffed, "If he had left me I would have been ticked and I'm not in love with him."

"Aw come on, you love him a little." She teased. "We all do. Someone has to. Anyway…if it had been you in that hospital room Grissom would have been able to talk to you." Sliding closer to Warrick, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Why the hell does this stuff have to be so difficult for some people? I mean two mature, intelligent people who are attracted to one another should be able to say how they feel and get on with it. Work it out as they go along."

"Really?" His eyes caught hers and held them. "You believe that."

The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth. "Yes. I do."

His voice dropped to a smooth murmur. "So if you felt that way about someone and you were pretty certain they felt the same way about you, you would come on out and say it letting the chips fall where they may."

Leaning in she whispered in his ear, "I would if I had the right opportunity."

Her hot breath against his neck sent a delightful shiver through him. Slowly his gaze fell upon her glossy lips. "Catherine…"

"Yes…" Her eyelids closing, she felt her body flush with anticipation. Unfortunately the elevator doors burst open before she could taste the sweetness of his lips.

"Going up?" Asked the frazzled business man at the open door.

Catherine and Warrick exchanged glances before bursting into a fit of laughter.

* * *

In the parking lot of the Pussycat Motel, Brass helped Nick load his equipment into his truck. "Hey I didn't want to bring this up you until you were done processing..." 

"Bring up what?" Nick asked as he shut the hatch.

He knew Nick was closer to Sara than anyone. "How do you feel about what Grissom did?"

"About Mike?" Nick folded his arms and leaned against the truck. "Hell, I'm relieved he stopped him."

"No. I'm not talking about that." Brass glanced over his shoulder to see if they were alone. When he realized everyone else had left the scene, he explained. "I'm talking about leaving Sara in Tahoe without ever seeing her or talking to her."

"He did WHAT?!" Nick went from zero to pissed in three seconds. "Tell me I didn't hear you right."

"Can't." Brass felt confident that he hadn't overreacted now that he saw how ticked Nick was getting. "I let him know I wasn't pleased with the decision."

"What the hell? Don't get me wrong, I think the world of Grissom but he can't treat Sara like crap and get away with it. Damn him! This reminds me of the time Bobby Brandt stood up my kid sister and I pounded him. If he was here right now I don't know what I'd do. I already told Ecklie to go to hell tonight. " Nick reached for his cell. "I need to call and see how she's doing."

"Don't bother." Brass held up his hand. "I already tried. They have a do not disturb order on her room."

Nick's expression warmed. "You checked in on her?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Brass said, "Last six months or so I've been feeling a little paternal when it comes to Sara. I know it's shocking since I did so well parenting Ellie." He shrugged. "There's something going on with Sara and it's not Grissom related. It had me worried before, but after this whole Tahoe thing, I'm really concerned for her. Anyway…I called. They wouldn't let me through, not even when I pulled the cop card."

"Aww…" Nick cracked a smile. "Look who's a big 'ol teddy bear."

Rolling his eyes Brass groaned. "Yeah well, it better not get out because I have my hard ass rep to protect."

"Hey I..." An ear piercing shriek from one of the hotel rooms ended the friendly banter.

Brass pulled his gun. "Second floor?"

"214 I think." Nick pointed to the corner room before brandishing his gun. "I got your back."

A second scream sent them running up the stairs.

At the door, Brass shouted, "Is everything okay in there?"

No one replied.

They both noticed the door was ajar.

Brass mouthed, one…two…three before opening the door. "Las Vegas Police!"

Nothing could have prepared Nick for the shock. "This can't be happening!"

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Standing in the doorway of room 214 Nick's heart raced. "This can NOT be happening!" In shock, he lowered his firearm and holstered it.

Brass, finally getting over his speechlessness, exclaimed, "Who says you can't hit the jackpot in Vegas!?" Dropping his gun he cracked a sunny smile. "A guy could wait his whole career and never get a bust this good. This is better than banana bread fresh out of the oven."

Right in front of them, in the skanky double bed of room 214, was none other than Conrad Ecklie.

"Stay right there and don't say a word, Conrad," Brass yelled while knowing it was impossible for him to do otherwise. "We'll take good care of you."

Squirming like a trout on a line, Ecklie tried to break free, but since his hands and feet were bound to the mattress handles with leather straps, he didn't make much progress. Talking was also out of the question since he was expertly gagged with a black silk scarf.

On top of the Assistant Director, was a very perturbed naked _lady_, who, with a wild mane of magenta hair and a Tijuana boob job, bore little resemblance to the conservative Mrs. Barbara Ecklie.

"Cops!" Flying high from the coke she just snorted off her john's chest, the hooker screamed. "Not what I friggin' needed tonight! Are you going to haul me in or can we work out a deal?!"

Nick shook his head. "This can NOT be happening! I know I'm dreaming. I've actually had this dream before."

"You're not dreaming." Brass slapped his stunned co-worker on the back. "You have something you want to say to the big boss man?"

Grinning, Nick asked, "What's her name? Candy or Brandy?"

The bodacious bondage babe answered on behalf of the gagged man flailing beneath her. "My name is Lucky."

"Mine too! Nick guffawed. "By any chance is your last name, Break?"

Brass shook with laughter. "Okay…okay we have to figure out the best way to handle this. Should we go with what my grandfather used to say…do unto others as they have screwed you?"

"Maybe that's too harsh." Nick took an 'aw shucks' tone. "After all, Mr. Ecklie was so generous to me when I was in a bind. I would hate to see him treated differently."

"Then let's play it safe. Go by the book."

Nick concurred. "Always a good idea." Shouting over at Ecklie, he said, "Isn't that right, Sir. We need to follow protocol. Do our jobs well. We want to make sure everything will hold up in court. You have my word. I'll be _very _thorough."

Flashing his badge and a smile Brass said, "Ma'am…Miss Lucky. I'm going to ask you a simple yes or no question. For what it's worth, I think you should answer yes, since you don't want to get hauled into the Las Vegas police station for what I'm sure wouldn't be your first time."

Flipping her pink hair off her shoulder she cracked, "Hey, whatever it takes to keep my ass out of jail, baby!"

"Awww…you're the girl of my dreams, honey." In his official LVPD voice, Brass got down to business. "I'm Captain Jim Brass of the Las Vegas police department and this is Nick Stokes from the crime lab. Do we have permission to enter the room?"

Ecklie thrashed beneath his date-for-hire while trying to yell, SAY NO, through the layers of scarf shoved in his mouth.

"Yes!" She nodded with enthusiasm. "Please come in."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Miss." Brass motioned for Nick to enter. "After you."

"Why thank you, Jim." Nick bounded into the room like a school boy going to recess. "Hey, Conrad, do you think this is going to mess up your plans for tomorrow morning? You know the plans to open an investigation and bring down the team?"

Seething with rage, Ecklie thrashed harder.

Brass joined Nick at the side of the bed. "Miss Lucky, if you give Mr. Stokes and me what we need, you won't get booked."

Spitting out her gum Lucky groaned, "Who's going first?"

Brass shook his head. "No. Not that. We're talking a whole different kind of pleasure."

"Ugh!" Lucky rolled her eyes. "Figures you want somethin' freaky. They always want somethin' freaky when it's free!"

For a moment Ecklie relaxed. Perhaps Stokes and Brass only wanted to share his toy.

"Calm down sweetheart." Brass grabbed a blanket and tossed it at girl. "You're done working. All we're going to be asking for is a few tasteful photos."

Ecklie knew he was screwed and this time the price would be significantly higher than two hundred bucks and a bag of coke.

Turning to Nick, Brass said, "Okay, I'm thinking we need to document this Kodak moment and take some samples of that odd powdery substance."

"Speaking of the powdery substance." Nick feigned ignorance. "Do you think it's powdered sugar?"

Brass shrugged. "Could be flour."

Ecklie closed his eyes and turned another shade of red.

"Or it could be…" Nick lowered his voice to a whisper. "…drugs."

"No! Don't even joke." Brass vehemently shook his head. "It can't be drugs. If the married Assistant Director of the Crime Lab was caught with drugs…in a seedy motel room…with a hooker… who provides a statement telling us she was solicited and paid…"

"That would be..."

"Very bad news for the Assistant Director but…"

"Very good news for us!" Rubbing his hands together, Nick gleefully announced, "I'll be right back with my camera and kit."

Leaning down, Brass snickered in Ecklie's ear, "Guess it's not your lucky night after all, Conrad. Don't worry, friends take care of friends. Oh wait…you're no friend of mine."

* * *

Sitting in his office, Grissom stared at the empty chair in front of him. His last words to Sara still fresh in his mind... _"A personal relationship would mean my decisions and your reputation would be questioned all the time. You're an excellent CSI, I want people to know your success is based on your intelligence and your dedication. I can't protect you if I give them a reason to doubt my actions."_

It was only half the truth. The next unspoken line was _I care so much about you, Sara. I can't protect you if you are in a relationship with me_.

All these years, he kept her close hoping to keep her from getting hurt by anyone. At the same time, he kept her at arms length to prevent her from hurting him. He finally understood the irony. The whole time _he_ was the one doing the hurting…to himself and to her. He wasn't his father or his mother or the boy…he was the perfect trinity of dysfunction.

Glancing at his watch he knew the doctor planned to release Sara in six hours.

He wondered, is there anything I can do to make things right? Should I show up in Tahoe? Should I track her down at the airport? Or have I caused her enough pain? Am I so hopelessly incompetent at this that no matter what I do or how hard I try I won't make things better, I'll make them worse and cause her more pain? Maybe the best thing I can do for Sara is nothing at all.

Checking the time he knew he had only a couple of hours to decide on a course of action.

* * *

Catherine and Warrick were alone at the break room table sipping coffee when Nick bounded into the room, slamming the door. "You are SO not going to believe this!" 

Catherine groaned, "Probably not." When she and Warrick returned from the field twenty minutes ago they were shocked to find out Grissom was sitting in his office instead of in Tahoe with Sara. "If it's not good news we don't want to hear it."

Beaming with delight Nick pulled up a chair. "Trust me. You want to hear this!"

Warrick set down his coffee mug. "If this is about a girl…"

"Oh it's about a girl!" Rubbing his palms together Nick oozed with excitement. "But not one of my girls and I'm not the guy."

Catherine sighed, "All right, Nicky, just spit it out. You're starting to sound like Sanders."

Gushing with pride, he spilled the beans. "Brass and I were working the 419 over at the Pussycat when we heard this scream. We thought someone was hurt. Guns drawn we head to the source. When we get there, we find the door unlocked so we push it open. Guess who we find?"

Warrick and Catherine were too tired to guess so they shrugged.

"Conrad Ecklie! Gagged and tied to the bed! Naked as the day he was born! Covered in coke! With a pink-haired hooker riding him like he was Seabiscuit!"

Warrick rolled his eyes, "Yeah…nice try, Stokes."

Catherine sighed, "You're just trying to cheer us up with a new fairy tale because the Tahoe one had such a crappy ending."

Nick reached into his jacket. "I've got proof!" With glee he spread the photos across the table. "See! Soon we'll be living happily ever after in an Ecklie-free world!"

* * *

Catherine burst into Grissom's office. "Did you hear about Ecklie?" 

Looking up from the flight table displayed on his laptop, he shook his head. "What now?"

Grinning from ear to ear, she imparted the good news. "Nick and Brass busted him at the Pussycat with a hooker and a pile of coke."

Distraught, Grissom replied, "Please tell me you're making this up."

"What?" Catherine found his reaction surprising. "No, I'm not making it up. Nick showed me the evidence photos. Ecklie's in lock up. I'm sure the Director is terminating him as we speak." Clapping, she joyfully announced, "We win!"

Removing his glasses, Grissom slumped in his chair. "We win? This isn't a victory, Catherine."

Surprised he wasn't more enthusiastic, she tilted her head. "I'm not tracking you."

With sorrow in his voice, Grissom explained, "Stop thinking of how this positively impacts _you _and think of the damage his lack of judgment will cause others. He has a wife and two small children. Think how much they stand to lose. Their lives will never be the same after today."

"Damn." Catherine hung her head. "Talk about feeling like a selfish ass."

"Yeah…" Grissom tossed his glasses on his desk. "It takes one to recognize one."

Taking a seat, Catherine sighed. "Gil…what happened when you called Sara?"

His tone was remorseful. "The nurse wouldn't put the call through. She said Sara was very upset and wouldn't take any calls or visitors."

"So." Catherine prodded. "Why not show up anyway?"

"I've been sitting here contemplating that but…" Tapping his fingers on the desk he said, "If she said she didn't want to talk to me then what right do I have to force myself on her. I mean isn't that what Mike was trying to do to her? No. Even though I want to go, I need to respect her wishes."

She couldn't fathom how he drew his conclusion. "Mike was trying to _take_ something from Sara that she didn't want to give. You are trying to _give _her something she wants. When a woman still wants something badly enough, even if she's hurt and angry, if you show up and say the right thing she'll give you another chance. "Shaking her head, Catherine chuckled, "You haven't seen Jerry McGuire, have you?"

After pondering the question for a moment, Grissom curiously replied, "No. Who is he? Is he that new guy in trace?"

"No, he's not the new guy in trace. He's a character in a chick flick! He screws up royally with a girl and at the end of the movie he shows up groveling for forgiveness. The girl melts like butter and takes him back. It works. Trust me." She chuckled harder. "What you don't know about women could fill a library."

"You have a marvelous gift for uncovering the obvious." Desperate for help he revealed his concerns. "I'm always behind. It's been like this for years. She'll ask a question or say something and by the time I start processing it, she's gone. I'm very good at my job, but at this stuff…I'm grossly incompetent. I never know what to expect and once it starts, it gets overwhelming and I end up blowing it." He sighed. "Catherine in all the years I've known you, how many times have I asked you for help with my life?"

"I could count the number of times on one hand with five fingers missing."

"Please help me."

Smiling, she said, "In Tahoe I swore I was giving up on you but you won me back. See how easy it is. You shed a few layers…ooze a little vulnerability and what do I do…fold like a lawn chair. Of course I've had a reputation for being easy since seventh grade."

At a time when he felt more alone than ever it was nice to know he still had a friend. "Thank you."

Happy to be back solving the Grissom puzzle, she recapped what she had learned thus far. "You are good at your job but lousy at the fine art of male to female communication…hmmm…let me think." After a minute an idea came to her. "What about this. Let's work through the dynamics of the social interaction like we would when running a scene. This way you have a visual flow and know what to expect."

"But how can you predict what she'll…"

"Because Sara and I, although we are _very _different people, we are both women looking for love."

Intrigued, he leaned forward. "Go ahead."

"You fly to Tahoe and go to the hospital. Then you wait outside until you see Sara leaving. When you see her, you call her name. She's surprised to hear her name. She looks around to see who is calling her and when she does, she sees you standing there. Then you walk over and say hello."

"Then what?"

"She could respond one of two ways…she'll either smile and wait for you to say something spectacular or she'll scream at you and tell you you're way too late."

Honesty pouring out of him, he replied, "Both of those responses scare the hell out of me."

"Then we'll cover both scenarios." She patiently explained, "If she smiles at you and waits for you to speak then all you have to do is sweetly apologize for leaving her in Tahoe and admit you were a fool. Tell her you've wised up and now you know what you want. Tell her if she gives you another chance you'll spend eternity making it up to her. She'll melt. She'll say yes. Then all you have to do is scoop her up in your arms, thank her for giving you the chance and take it from there."

"What about the second scenario?" He squirmed. "Because I think she's going to be mad."

Grinning at her pupil she said, "Almost the same strategy except you'll be talking as she walks away. Instead of being sweet you'll have to humiliate yourself. You'll have to chase her, begging for forgiveness and another chance. Eventually she'll determine you've embarrassed yourself enough and she'll stand still. That's when she'll shoot you dagger eyes and wait for you to grovel. With heart wrenching honesty you spill your guts and don't stop until you run out of things to say. When you stop talking she'll make her decision. From there it's either a kick in the ass or the same outcome as scenario one."

Anxiety spurting through him, he said, "Okay…I'll…I'll book the flight."

"Excellent choice!" Standing up, she egged him on as she headed for the door. "Go to Tahoe. Do what I said. I guarantee you'll fly home together." When she reached the door she smiled. "Personally I think you'll have her at hello." Walking down the hall she took a deep breath and thought, this is perfect! Sara will be so stunned to see him in Tahoe, she'll fall speechless. Then he can get his words out without....

"Hey, Catherine." Sara called out.

"Hey, Sara." She froze. "Sara?! What the hell are you doing here?" Her eyes darted to her watch. "You're not supposed to be discharged for hours!" She hadn't prepared her student for this scenario. Now Sara would walk in and catch Grissom totally by surprise. Minutes later she'd tell him she was quitting and before he can figure out what to say, Sara would be out the door thinking he didn't give a damn.

Smiling, Sara replied, "I think you're taking this sisterly concern a little too far. I'm fine. The doctor let me go after I exercised my patient rights. I have the papers to prove it." Winking she folded her arms across her chest. "My first attempt at taking back a little power and it was a big success. Now I'm ready to take back a little more."

"Great." Nervously Catherine glanced down the hall toward Grissom's office.

Sara took a deep breath. "Is he in his office?"

Cringing, she replied. "Yes."

"Could you do me a favor?" Sara asked as she steadied herself. "If anyone comes looking for Grissom could you run interference. I only need a few minutes to say what I have to say but I don't want to be interrupted. I know it's not very professional to do this here but if he's going to hide here, he leaves me know choice."

The ambush was only moments away and although Catherine knew she could stop it, she realized it wasn't fair to Sara. Grissom had surprised Sara with his retreat in Tahoe and now Sara would pay him back with a surprise of her own. "Sure."

"Thanks for your help." Sara replied as she walked down the hall.

"That's me…helpful." She followed her down the hall to take her place as watchdog.

When she reached the door, Sara paused to watch Grissom feverishly typing on his laptop. Still hurting from his abandonment, she wanted to hate him, but as hard as she tried she couldn't muster the emotion. Grissom is who he is, she reasoned. She couldn't resent him for not dealing with his feelings if he wasn't capable. Love isn't about wanting to change the other person in the relationship. Love is about acceptance. She could no more force him to act on his feelings than he could expect her to suppress hers.

She wished there was another way. After all they had the same feelings. Unfortunately, their methods of expressing them were destined to keep them apart.

Standing in silence watching the man who still had her heart, Sara accepted something else. Closure, like love, isn't something you can suddenly declare. On the plane she thought she convinced herself she was over him but now she knew it was wishful thinking. Closure takes time and space. More time than a one hour flight from Reno and more space than this building or this city could provide.

After cycling through a couple of deep breaths she began her speech. "Hi." When Grissom's eyes met hers she knew she had no choice but to go forward with her plan. Even after what happened in Tahoe, with every ounce of her being, she still wanted him. That of course meant she couldn't stay.

It was the first time he'd seen her since she lay unconscious in the hospital and everything about her took his breath away. Removing his glasses, he studied her in silence, thankful she was alive and standing in front of him. Thankful she was smiling. Thankful she was here giving him one last chance. Since the location didn't permit an emotional response, he suppressed the urge to race across the room and gather her in his arms. Instead, he opted to reciprocate her simple greeting. "Hi."

After closing the door Sara took two cautious steps into the room. "Um…I'm here to thank you." Smiling brighter, she explained, "When I was in the hospital, Catherine told me how you figured out everything about Mike. It was an amazing story." In a voice saturated with warmth she said, "You were brilliant…as usual. Whether it's finding justice for a victim, standing up to Ecklie or helping me…you've always been there for me. Like the time I volunteered to be a decoy for the FBI and you rushed in to get me or when my hand was cut in the lab explosion and you made sure it was taken care of…you're always protecting me."

Listening to her he was overcome with relief and his heart swelled with happiness. She wasn't angry. She was grateful! Things weren't over. They were beginning! Now all he had to do was wait for her to finish so he could say his part and then they could start their life together.

Grissom's silence and intense stare flustered her but Sara forged on. "I'll be forever in your debt, which…which makes the next thing I have to say harder, but…" A nervous chuckle escaped her lips. "Funny thing is when I rehearsed this speech I always prefaced it with me asking you not to say anything but you're already not saying anything so just keep doing what you're doing." Biting her lip she looked away. "I…I need to leave the lab. I need to leave Vegas."

Certain he was misunderstanding Grissom leaned forward. She must mean another vacation. After all that happened the last week she needs to rest.

Rigidly Sara held her tears in check. "You see, when I was in Tahoe, before the…the incident, I was thinking about my life. How I came to Vegas, why I stayed so long…my future. From the resort, I made a few phone calls. I called Berkeley about finishing my Ph.D. I called my old boss at SFPD to see if he knew of any openings and much to my surprise, he offered me a CSI 4 position." Sweetly, she added, "His exact words were _after four years working with Gil Grissom I'm sure you have a lot of valuable knowledge to share so of course we want you here_." A smile twittered across her lips. "Something else to thank you for I guess."

His heart pounding in his chest, he couldn't believe what was happening. She wasn't here for a new beginning, she was here to say goodbye.

Dropping to a whisper Sara said, "I've learned so much here and um…I could stay here and learn even more but it's time. It's time for me to spread my wings and see what I can do on my own. So…uh…" Timidly she forced the last part out. "I'm giving you my two weeks notice. I quit."

His fear suddenly stark reality, Grissom frantically blurted. **"**The lab needs you! I don't care what San Francisco wants. You can't do this, Sara!" His voice cracked. "Please…don't do this." The rest of his plea caught in his throat.

Looking up at the ceiling she fought to control her emotions and when she did, she came back stronger. "You say you don't care what San Francisco wants. What about what_I _want? When is it about what's good for _me_?" She may not have been able to hate him but anger was easy.

Outraged at his selfishness, she continued her power play. "Sometimes you treat me like one of your beetles in a jar. You like me trapped and available. When you need me, you know all you have to do is give me an opening and I'll come running because I'm grateful for getting a little time in your world. _You _control the lid on a jar. Only _you_get to decide when I get close to you. When you've had enough, it's back to the jar for me until you need me again. And if ever you see me fading, instead of dropping little scraps of food my way, you throw attention." Inhaling sharply she added, "I'm not blaming you. I let it happen. But I won't anymore. I've had enough. That's why I'm leaving."

Dropping his head in his hand he closed his eyes. It was never his intent to keep her at his disposal and string her along but listening to her analogy he realized the painful truth. While he protected himself, he had manipulated her. Yes, it was true, she let it happen but right now that knowledge didn't make him feel any better about his pathetic behavior. "Sara…you don't have to leave the lab to…"

"Yes. I do." Her voice filled with conviction. "I've given _the lab_ years of my time. I've given the lab my heart even when it didn't deserve it anymore. And I know I've given the lab my body because every inch of it is exhausted. The only thing I have left is my ability to say it stops now."

Desperate to make the situation better Grissom floundered. "I…I'm sorry."

Heatedly, she snapped, "You're sorry."

"I am." He pleaded with his eyes.

"Sorry for what exactly? See, you're apologizing but you're not telling me why and without any substance, an apology is just a bunch of words." She knew he was hurting but she pressed on with vigor. "Are you sorry for leaving me in Tahoe when I needed you? For not even being a concerned friend? For not being man enough to tell me yourself?" Her eyes narrowed as her tone turned colder. "Or are you sorry for stringing me along over the years with nebulous comments which you _knew _left me confused?" Finally she snapped. "Or are you just sorry you won't have me around to control anymore?!"

He didn't know which to address first. "I…"

Even though she swore she wouldn't lose it, she felt her voice rising along with her frustration. "Do you see what I'm saying? You telling me, I'm sorry, means nothing! It means nothing because there are so many things you could be sorry for, I have no way of knowing what you really mean!"

The truth was he was sorry about everything he ever did to cause her pain but he sensed if he said that it wouldn't be the right answer. He needed to be more specific.

Realizing he was overloaded and the conversation was turning into a scene, she backed off. "I've said what I came to say." Shaking, she reached for the doorknob. "I'm still on suspension so I'm going home." Without looking back she opened the door, stepped into the hall and kept walking.

Minutes later, Catherine entered the office.

Grissom cringed.

"Tell me what happened." She helped herself to a chair.

"When she got here she had already made up her mind to leave." He slid further down in his seat. "It's definitely too late."

"Really?" She folded her arms across her chest. "What was the last thing Sara said? Did she say she hated you? That she never wanted to see you again? Did she call you scum and say she'd kill you if you even looked at her funny?" She paused to chuckle. "I used that last line once…very effective."

"Thankfully no she didn't say any of those things." Not that he thought he could feel much worse.

"Tell me _exactly_ what she said before she walked out the door."

Sighing he answered, "She said, I'm still on suspension so I'm going home."

"Really?!" A mischievous grin popped up on Catherine's face. "Why do you think she wanted you to know where she'd be?"

"She didn't." He answered logically. "She was stating a fact."

"Good lord, you are more clueless than I ever realized!" Tossing her hair off her shoulder she moved to the edge of his desk. "She wants you to go find her. That's why she said it."

Baffled, he replied, "Won't she think I'm stalking her if I show up? She made it pretty clear that she was done talking."

"_She_ is done." Catherine pointed at the clueless man in front of her. "It's your turn."

Apprehension in his voice, he asked, "Even though she told me her decision? Do you really believe she wants me to chase after her and try to change her mind?"

"Absolutely! Let's run it." Happily she took another stab at the puzzle. "You knock on her door. She looks out the peep hole and has to decide whether or not to let you in. Eventually she opens the door. You ask to come in and talk. At first she'll hesitate but don't worry, she'll let you in. When you first get inside she'll be distant and cold but that's okay. You initiate the conversation asking her to stay. She'll flip at your audacity. After all, she just told you she was leaving. That's okay, just keep going about your business."

"For how long?"

"Eventually she'll stop ranting and ask you a leading question. That's your defining moment. Depending on your answer, she'll either kick your ass out the door or give you a chance."

"What will the question be?" He waited with baited breath.

Grinning she gave him an answer she knew he would hate. "It can be anything but if you're listening you'll recognize it when she says it."

"Do you have any idea how illogical and terrifying all this sounds to me?"

Standing up she pointed at the door. "Go get the girl, damn it! Don't let her go to San Francisco and break up our little family!" Huffing she paced the room. "If it helps, let's focus on _me_ for a minute. I don't want some annoying outsider plunked in here as Sara's replacement! Knowing my luck it will be some obnoxious blond who thinks she's better than me!"

When she saw him stand, grab his keys and head for the door her expression warmed. "Gil, in our line of work we never get to see happy endings so please, whatever you do…don't blow this because I absolutely guarantee it is truly your very last chance! You need to go to her and spill your guts. You have nothing to lose because she's already leaving. So focus on what you have to gain."

He clutched the doorframe. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Proudly she watched him leave. "Wait!" She met him at the door. "One more very important thing. Wow, I can't believe I almost forgot this part."

Cocking his head he waited for her final piece of wisdom.

"If she's playing music, take a listen before saying anything. If it's some kind of man-hating uber-feminist rock song then you need to run. If it's a pathetic song about the pain of love then you're good to go."

"What if she's not playing any music?"

In a plucky tone she replied, "Duh! Then you check to see if she's been eating chocolate."

"Of course." Clutching his keys like worry beads, he left the room.

As soon as Grissom was gone, Warrick entered the room clapping. "Brava!"

Bowing she said, "He may be the star of this demented tale but I play the role of the trusty sidekick rather well, don't I?"

Savoring the woman in front of him Warrick replied, "Yes, you do." Suddenly he was thinking about other roles for her to play.

Together they walked into Grissom's empty office.

While trying to make up his own mind, he rambled. "So…uh…you really think Gris will be able to change Sara's mind?"

Rolling her eyes, she groaned. "You're the gambler, what do you think the odds are?" Really she wondered what the odds were that he was thinking the same thing that she was…it's been a rough couple of days, could we get the hell out of here and go someplace a little more private to decompress.

"Now you know I don't gamble anymore." But calculated risks were still okay and Warrick was ready to take one.

Shrugging, Catherine answered her own question. "I think if Grissom manages to blurt out the right words Sara will fold like a blackjack player holding five against an ace but the odds of Grissom finding the right words…a long shot at best."

Crossing the room, Warrick watched Catherine's eyes watching him. "Speaking of gambling, what do you think my chances would be if I asked you to have lunch with me right now?"

Lost in the intensity of his smoldering eyes, she wistfully replied, "Oh, I'd say it was a sure thing."

"In that case…" He brushed up against her. "Would you like to have lunch with me?"

"I'd love to." Straightening the collar of his black fitted shirt, she taunted, "Maybe in this twisted fairy tale the hapless hero manages to get the girl but there's more…the trusty sidekick, as a reward for her patience, gets a guy…a tall, dark, handsome and incredibly sexy guy. What do you think? Would that be a good ending?"

Her proximity tantalized him and if they weren't standing in the boss's glass walled office he would have eliminated the six inch gap between them. "Sounds perfect."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25 **

Sitting on the floor surrounded by open cardboard boxes, Sara sifted through her old dissertation research materials while listening to k.d. lang's Hymns of the 49th Parallel, which she had selected because it fit her forlorn mood like a glove.

Almost two hours had slipped away since she left Grissom's office and although her heart was aching, with each passing minute she felt more certain her decision was the right one.

As she plowed through her binder on Orthotropic Damage Models she joined k.d., singing the chorus of Love is Everything. "Love is everything they said it would be…love made sweet and sad the same…but love forgot to make me too blind to see…you're chickening out aren't you…you're bangin' on the beach like an old tin drum…I can't wait 'til you make the whole kingdom come…so I'm leaving."

Putting down her binder, she thought, I'm Bridget Jones. I'm singing a sad song in my apartment while I realize I'm a lonely spinster. Of course fictional Bridget got her happy ending. Mark Darcy showed up on her doorstep when she least expected it. No chance of that happening to...

A knock on her door startled her.

Rising to her feet she brushed the dust from the boxes off her clothes and headed for the door. Peering through the peephole she saw her flamboyant neighbor from across the hall. "Yeah…Bridget gets Mark Darcy at her door but this is my reality…my crazy neighbor."

Through the door, Roxie said, "I know you're in there honey, because I hear music."

Assuming the meddlesome woman had received another piece of her mail in error Sara opened the door with her hand ready to receive the misdirected correspondence.

Roxie, flashing a brilliant smile, extended a box of chocolates. "I saw you come home a little while ago and thought this would be a good time to give you a proper welcome to the building."

Confused, Sara replied, "I've lived here for years."

Patting her puzzled neighbor on the shoulder, Roxie explained, "I know but I think we got off on the wrong foot and I'm a firm believer that it's _never _too late for a fresh start." Warmly she held out her hand. "I'm Roxie Delecroix."

Cautiously, she returned the handshake. "Sara Sidle." With trepidation, she accepted the gift.

Pointing to her door, Roxie said, "If you ever need anything, Sara, I'm right across the hall." Backing away, she winked. "I know you're a busy girl with a very important job at the crime lab so I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing."

"Thanks…for the candy…and the welcome." Baffled by the bizarre scene, Sara stepped back into her apartment and shut the door. "How does she know I work in the crime lab?"

Although she desperately wanted a piece of candy, she didn't throw caution to the wind. Instead, she studied the box making sure the safety seals were still intact. Once she was certain the candy couldn't be tainted, she tore into the box and grabbed a truffle. Crossing the room she savored the chocolate along with the end of the bittersweet song filling the room.

Taking her place on the floor once more, she sighed. "Now…where were you Bridget?"

Seconds later there was another, more urgent knock at the door. "A ha! Much as she surmised, there was a string attached to the candy. Her mind raced with the possibilities as she jumped up, snatched the box of chocolates and marched to the door.

Fuming she wondered what her crafty neighbor would ask her to do. Take care of a smelly cat? Pick up newspapers? Damn it! Why do people have to be so manipulative? Why couldn't they just come on out and tell you what they wanted? Swinging open the door, Sara barked, "Hey, I'm not sure what you want but you can forget it!"

Grissom froze. Catherine didn't mention the yelling at the door.

Stunned when she saw Grissom standing in the doorway, Sara stammered. "Oh…it's you. I…I thought you were one of my neighbors." Her mind raced. What is he doing here? "Um…what do you want?"

Relieved the tense greeting wasn't meant for him, Grissom relaxed his stance. "Hello." He couldn't help notice the box of truffles she was clutching. Chocolate…a good sign.

While she was dying on the inside, Sara leaned against the door and calmly asked, "Is this about the paperwork?"

"Paperwork?"

"The message you left on my phone. Something about suspension paperwork?"

Recalling the message he left days ago he shook his head. "No. That's old. I don't have the paperwork. It's back at the office." After glancing around the hallway, he cleared his throat and took the next step. "Would you mind…could we go inside and talk for a minute?" He was certain Roxie Delecroix was staring through her peephole and he was tense enough with the pressure of performance anxiety.

While struggling to mask her unease she curtly replied, "I'm a little busy actually."

Hesitation…just as Catherine predicted. Suddenly he remembered to check the music streaming from Sara's apartment.

Certain he wasn't hearing the lyrics of man-hating uber-feminist rock, but rather the soulful words of a desperate love song, he stuck to the plan. "I promise not to take much of your time."

"Well…if you only need a few minutes." Sara motioned for him to enter and once he did, she shut the door behind them. "Watch your step. The place is a mess, dust everywhere. I was going through my school boxes, reading old dissertation research."

Being in the apartment brought back memories of his frantic search here days earlier and for a moment, Grissom wandered around to get his bearings. Stopping in front of the book case he reached out and ran his fingertips over the spine of the Entomology book.

For once Sara was grateful that Grissom was too clueless to pick up on the telltale signs of a woman nursing a love hangover. While he walked around, she quickly shut off the lovesick tune blaring from the stereo and put the box of chocolate in a desk drawer.

From her desk she grabbed a rubber band and used it to pull her hair back cinching it at the nape of her neck. "So Grissom…if it's not about paperwork then why are you here? Because you're not saying anything and I thought I was pretty clear…I'm done talking." It was the first time he was ever with her in her apartment and she found it completely unnerving.

He recognized the tone…cold and distant. It was time for the next step, initiate the discussion. Despite some careful planning on the drive over, followed by an hour of deep thought sitting in his car outside of Sara's apartment complex, when the moment finally arrived, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Do you realize how inferior the lab equipment is in San Francisco? Their mass spec…"

"I can't believe you!" Stunned by his audacity, she gasped. "You came here to try and talk me out of my decision? Even after I asked…no, practically _begged _you to respect my choice? You have some nerve!"

He recalled Catherine's prediction; _she'll flip at your audacity._ With his back still to her, he replied, "I'm uh…not here to talk you out of anything." Closing his eyes he steadied himself with a deep breath before turning around to face her. "I'm here to talk you into something." Immediately he noticed she had pulled her hair back, and he knew it was only a matter of time before a piece would slip out and frame her face.

"Semantics!" Tossing her hands in the air she gasped. "So instead of talking me _out_ of my decision to leave the lab, you are going to try and talk me _into _staying at the lab. Didn't you hear my plans? How does staying in Vegas help me finish my doctorate?"

The factual question was a no-brainer and with full confidence he tackled it. "Actually it would be easier if you stayed. You have the best lab in the country at your fingertips. You have the vacation time and the flexibility to go to Berkeley when necessary. I promise I'll approve the time off because I want you to succeed. I want you to further your education and your career. You have a support system here. If you were the new CSI in San Francisco you'd be at the bottom and have no control of your hours..."

"Don't you get it?" Frustration mounting, she blurted. "I need to put _distance _between us because of the way I feel and you don't. Can't you understand the situation is uncomfortable for me? I respect how you feel so please respect my decision. Neither one of us is wrong here. It's just the way things have to be."

"What you don't understand yet…" Rolling his eyes he groaned, "…because I've done a lousy job telling you is…" Painfully aware that once again his analytical mind was trying to squelch his heart's desire, he fought to get his words out. "I…I'm here because I want to decrease the distance between us."

Her breath caught in her throat.

Struggling, he did his best. "Sara…I don't want you to leave."

Still uncertain if he meant him personally versus needing her in the lab, she asked a leading question. "Why? Because the lab needs me?"

Standing there Grissom knew he heard _the question_. It was the defining moment Catherine had mentioned. Sara's question simultaneously presented an out and an opportunity. All he had to do was say, _yes, because the lab needs you_ and he was certain he'd get his ass kicked out the door. On the other hand, if he could come up with a heartfelt response Sara would give him a chance.

As usual, the battle began and his self-preservationist mind weighed in with its predictable answer…run! But his heart, still smarting from being discounted when he stood outside Sara's hospital room in Tahoe, punched back with an uncharacteristically right-brained answer. Turning away from Sara he carefully considered the information…

Love was a roller coaster and yes, no matter how thrilling or rewarding the ride, it always ends _but _didn't the length of the ride depend on the height of the initial hill and subsequently the length of time it took to ratchet up to the first perilous drop? The point was crystal clear. It had taken almost five years to reach the top of this hill and if, on average, the first hill of a roller coaster represented only a tenth of the actual ride well…the math was easy.

Suddenly so was his answer to Sara's question.

There, precariously perched at the apex of his insecurity, he faced her, released his words and let gravity take over. "My reason has nothing to do with the lab. I care deeply about you, Sara, and I hope…if it's not too late…that you'll stay in Vegas and we...we can make this work. I'd give anything to make this work. _Anything._ I'll leave the lab if it means you'll stay."

Stunned by his last line, Sara gasped. The lab was all he had. It meant everything to him which meant…now she was everything to him. In that moment, all was forgiven. She wanted to tell him but shock rendered her temporarily mute.

Interpreting her silence as a warning, he tried harder. "You wanted to know what I'm sorry for…I'll tell you." With nothing to lose, Grissom's words flowed freely. "I'm sorry for how foolishly I acted all these years. I'm sorry I wasted too much time and caused you unnecessary pain and confusion." Shaking his head, he kept going. "I'm sorry I didn't take that walk around the block with you when you suggested it. I'm sorry I didn't say yes when you asked me to dinner. I'm sorry I didn't kiss you when I had the chance. I'm sorry I didn't agree with you when you wanted to work this out. I'm sorry for every tear you cried because of me."

Sara, astonished by the raw outpouring of emotion from the man she assumed was incapable of showing any, remained in a silent daze.

Taking her hand Grissom begged in soulful murmur, "I'm sorry I left you in Tahoe. It was a horrible thing to do. In my life I can't think of anything I regret more. Can you forgive me, Sara?" Squeezing her hand, he choked out a final plea. "If you give me a chance, I'll make it up to you. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I…" The breathlessness of the free fall finally overcame him and he turned his eyes to the floor while he wondering if he was plummeting alone.

When Grissom fell silent, Sara was finally able to catch her breath. Realizing the depth of his passionate plea, she tenderly said, "That's the second time in forty-eight hours you figured something out just in time. I forgive you."

When he raised his eyes her loving smile greeted him and he knew Sara was along for the ride. "Thank you," he exhaled in a tremulous whisper.

Gently she inquired, "Why the sudden change of heart?"

At first, not finding his own words, he relied on a quote. "Anais Nin said, "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk to blossom." His eyes clung to hers as he spoke softly. "Sara, I am who I am and while we've worked side by side for years, in a different context…I'd be lying if I didn't say I worried you might be disenchanted with me. I'm forty eight and I've never had a serious relationship. I don't know if I'll be good at it. I'm terrified I'll mess things up between us but…I'm willing to take a risk because losing you without ever trying would be far worse."

Recognizing his vulnerability, Sara confidently replied, "I don't need a fantasy. I _need _someone to share my reality and that someone is you. I can't imagine sharing it with anyone else."

It was strangely comforting for Grissom to hear Sara confirm what she had confessed in Tahoe while under the potent influence of GHB.

Tenderly she continued to allay his fears. "I know this is a risk for you both personally and professionally. Please know I would never intentionally hurt you or do anything at work to compromise you. You can trust me."

The word sent a surge of fear through him. "I haven't trusted anything but science for such a long time. I want to trust you." Sliding his hands around Sara's waist, Grissom fulfilled the last step...scoop her up in your arms. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

The loving embrace fed her hungry soul and she eagerly returned the affection.

Feeling her body pressed to his and the warmth of her breath on his neck, Grissom felt alive for the first time in many years. Quietly he pleaded, "We have to make this work."

In the safety of his arms, Sara admitted, "I've never been in a serious relationship either and like you, I'm not sure I'll be good at it but if we work together, I know we can figure it out…at the right pace for the both of us." A light chuckle escaped her lips. "Let's face it, we won't be rushing into anything; lack of spontaneity is something we have in common. Look how long it took us to get this far."

Finally able to relax, he joined in her levity. "It's good to have things in common in a relationship…or so I've been told."

As it had so many times before, their mutual laughter eased the tension between them. This time, however, instead of snapping them back into friendship mode, the release aided the affection building between them.

Arms still entwined around each other's waists, they locked gazes.

Grissom noticed that at some point during the embrace, a lock of Sara's hair had slipped out of her ponytail and was framing her face. Reaching up, Grissom finally fulfilled his desire and brushed the errant stand from Sara's face. As he caressed her cheek, he nostalgically commented, "Dust…from your school boxes."

"You remember that." She blushed. "I really don't have dust on my face, do I?"

"No," he replied with a smile.

The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through Sara's receptive body. Suddenly, afraid to rush things, she fought the overpowering urge to kiss him for the first time. Then she realized, he wasn't fighting it at all.

Sara's skin was as soft as he always imagined it would be which made him wonder if her lips would be as sweet as they were in his fantasies. When his gaze happened upon her moist lips he recalled the heated kiss she planted on him in Tahoe. That didn't count…she didn't remember it and he didn't return it. This would be a first for both of them. Bringing his other hand to her face, he eagerly anticipated the ride's next thrill and as the mouths met, he wondered, was it the hint of chocolate on her lips that made them sweeter than he ever dreamed or was it the first taste of love?

It was a kiss for her tired soul to melt into and Sara's body responded with a pleasure-fused sigh. After starting out sweet, like their flirtatious friendship years ago, the kiss deepened and slowed like their relationship had over time and in its last breathless moments, a mutual passion ignited…foreshadowing a delicious intensity yet to come.

When their lips parted their eyes opened, exposing their mutual satisfaction and burning desires they knew they would find a way to make the relationship work.

Finally able to speak, Sara whispered, "Wow…um…pretty spontaneous for two supposedly un-spontaneous people."

With their bodies still clasped, Grissom barely mustered a coherent thought "Agreed."

"Makes you wonder what other impromptu actions we're capable of…exhibiting." Grinning, Sara coyly asked, "Are you uh…thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Actually I'm thinking two things…well only one is a thought really, the other is more of a..." Taking a deep breath and a step back, he answered her question. "I think we should go out and grab some lunch… analyze how we're going to handle our working relationship now that we've decided to start a personal relationship. It's an important step and if we don't discuss it before…"

"Exactly what I was thinking." Sara chuckled while crossing the room to grab her purse.

When Grissom joined her in the hallway Sara teased, "For the record, it wasn't the_ only_ thing I was thinking. It was the only _reasonable_ thing I was thinking."

Smirking he laced his fingers between hers and started down the hall. "Jonathan Swift said, reason is a very light rider, and easily shook off."

"Isn't that why we're going _out_ for lunch?"

"That's _exactly_ why we're going out for lunch."

* * *

Going out to lunch had sounded good in theory but after sharing a drink and a soul-bearing conversation they couldn't wait to get out of the public eye and into each others arms. 

A seemingly endless drive to the apartment simmered their hunger and by the time they got out of the car it was ready to steam.

Fumbling with the keys he debated kicking open the door but finally the key slipped in the hole and not a second too soon, the door swung wide.

Rushing inside she slammed the door behind them and a moment later he had her slammed against the wall ravishing her with fiery kisses while her hands feverishly explored his heated body.

Not a single word was exchanged as they marked a path to the bedroom with hastily discarded clothes. Who had the time or the inclination to converse when actions spoke louder than words ever could?

There in the bedroom, years of unanswered cravings were fulfilled. The yearning looks…the non-accidental touches…the almost conversations….all those moments laid the groundwork for this explosive union and when it was over, Catherine and Warrick fell back against the sheets, exhilarated and exhausted.

Catherine, finally catching her breath, purred, "Where have you been all my life?"

Propping up on an elbow Warrick leaned in and replied in a sexy whispered, "For the last seven years, twelve hours a day, I've been standing next to you."

"I wasn't ready for this seven years ago." Tracing the curve of his lips, she clarified her thoughts. "I don't think I was ready for this until today."

"Me either." Brushing his mouth over hers he engaged her in a lingering kiss. "Catherine…"

Wandering in the depths of his soulful eyes, she sighed. "Yes…"

"You think we can make this work beyond the bedroom?"

Sobering slightly, she replied, "That depends. How do you feel about being in a relationship where fidelity is actually practiced?"

"Well I've never been on the receiving end of that type of relationship but I bet it's a nice place to be."

"I've often thought that myself."

Pulling Catherine into his arms, Warrick confidently remarked, "I think, two severely burned people who know betrayal first hand, can come together and heal each other with a little honesty and respect."

A hopeful smile cracked through Catherine's doubts. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

Leaning against her apartment door, looking over at Grissom, Sara glowed with happiness. "I think our first date went very well." 

Relaxed from their candid three hour lunch conversation he teased, "Probably because you didn't call it a _date _until now."

Comfortable taunting him, she replied, "Well you asked me out, held my hand, bought me lunch and now you're walking me to my door…the evidence doesn't lie. You're a gentleman and this was most definitely a date." In a throaty voice she fished for more proof things were going as well as she thought. "Makes a girl wonder if she'll get a kiss on the doorstep and asked out a second time."

Grateful for the hint, he gathered Sara in his arms and put the proper finish on the perfect afternoon.

Buzzed from the passionate kiss, Sara mused, "Now that's what I call indisputable physical evidence."

In her ear, he asked in a husky whisper, "Tomorrow is my night off…yours too. How about dinner at my place? Seven o'clock?"

Delighted by the invitation into his inner sanctum she eagerly offered, "What can I bring?"

His honesty catching up with him, Grissom blurted his answer. "Pajamas."

Cracking up, Sara said, "Okay I'm retracting my gentleman comment but you get bonus points for honesty."

Peeling himself away, Grissom shook his head. "I really said that out loud? And you wonder why I kept my mouth shut for so long."

"I'm saying goodnight now." Still laughing, Sara opened her door and stepped inside. "I need my rest…big date tomorrow."

Falling faster with each passing minute, he reluctantly replied, "Have a good evening, Sara."

"How could I not?" Knowing they were both mentally and physically exhausted from the stress of the last week, she lovingly said, "Try to get some sleep before shift, okay."

Nodding, he watched her disappear behind the door.

When he turned to leave he saw Roxie Delecroix leaning in her doorway. "Have you been standing there long?"

"Nah...just opened the door." Pausing she took a drag off her cigarette. "Before that I was watching the two of you through the peep hole and listening."

"Of course you were." Finding Roxie strangely endearing, he inquired, "So how did I do?"

Closing her door she flung her silver and purple rhinestone studded purse over her shoulder. "Walk me to my taxi and I'll tell you."

Obliging her he took her by the arm. "Big night on the town?"

"It's Vegas Baby; every night is a big night on the town." Grinning widely, Roxie enthusiastically offered some detail. "Now to answer your question. Honey…from the look on Sara's face I'd say the Ice Princess has melted. No small feat. You must be good."

Pleased with the answer he joked, "Not too bad for an old dog with no tricks."

Scoffing she retorted, "Please…I've got twenty years on you and I'm still going strong. Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."

"Mark Twain." He held the door to the parking lot open for her.

"You're well read for a young man." Patting his shoulder she chuckled. "Now about your lack of tricks. You need any advice you come to Roxie 'cause I know every trick in the book."

"I bet you do." Opening the door to her waiting cab, Grissom flashed a mischievous smile. "Don't worry about my lack of knowledge…I read a lot more than Twain."

Hopping in the cab, Roxie released a hearty laugh. "You're a funny one, Mr. Grissom. I'm glad you're going to be around the building more."

A sense of peace washing over him, he softly replied, "Me too."

* * *

When Greg Sanders strolled into the break room at 10:45pm, the powerful scent of roses grabbed his attention. On the table he noted two dozen yellow roses in one vase and two dozen red in another. Moving closer, he read the names on the cards…both said Catherine. "Whoa." 

With a bounce in her step, Catherine strutted into the break room. "Hey Greg."

"Catherine!" Greg oozed with curiosity. "You got flowers…two vases full."

"Really?" Nonchalantly she sauntered over to the table.

"Which card first?" Greg naively asked.

"Always the red, my dear boy." Plucking the card, she put on a show. "I wonder who sent these and what could I have possibly done this afternoon to deserve such a beautiful gift?"

Greg sat on the edge of the table to watch her reaction.

Catherine couldn't mask her appreciation. "Very nice."

Like a kid on Christmas morning, Greg begged, "Open the other one!"

Snatching the card, she continued the game. "Now what did I do today to deserve these? Perhaps a little miracle work?"

When she saw the message she burst out laughing.

Greg begged, "Come on…let me live vicariously through your excitement. What do the cards say?"

"You really want to know?" She gushed. "Think you can handle it?"

"Yeah." He growled.

"Okay….but I'm warning you, be prepared." With verve she held up both cards which had identical messages: You are the BEST!

"Wow!." Greg bowed before the goddess in front of him. "You're my hero."

"What can I say?" Flipping her hair off her shoulder she beamed with delight. "If the role fits."

Stammering from an overactive imagination, Greg said, "Um…I knew you were…but I wish I…could we maybe…"

"Sorry Greg." Wistfully she explained, "With these two guys, my dance card is full and for once, I'm not anticipating any openings in the future." Placing the two cards in her pocket, she winked, "I trust you won't tell anyone about the cards, right? It's just…I don't like my personal life to mix with my professional one." She could barely keep a straight face.

"Don't worry." He vowed. "Your secret is safe with me. I'm just glad to finally be in on something around here."

She chuckled, "Give it a little time, Greg. I'm sure you'll find out more."


	26. Epilogue Part 1 of 5

**EPILOGUE – Part 1 of 5**

**7 months later…**

Pacing the courthouse lobby Nick questioned his performance on the witness stand. Was I clear enough? Did I connect with the jury? The blood spatter evidence seemed to hook most of them but during impact angle analysis several of them glazed over from the math and I'm almost certain juror nine dozed for five solid minutes.

Putting a hand on Nick's shoulder Grissom smiled. "You're wearing down the tile."

"The wait is killing me."

When the Prosecutor called late yesterday afternoon to inform the team that the Rodgers verdict would be read the next morning, he also warned them not to get their hopes up for a conviction.

"You were excellent on the stand, Nick." Grissom assured him. For months he watched Nick harbor the guilt of bringing Mike into Sara's life…into their lives. The trial was a chance for Nick to get some closure. Hoping to reassure his co-worker's confidence, Grissom added, "I knew I couldn't do it as well as you Nicky, that's why I put you up there." After what Mike had done, and _almost_ done, to Sara, Grissom knew he would be too emotionally involved to do the job well and as far as payback was concerned, ego had no place in an equation where the stakes were so high.

The enormity of the compliment overwhelmed Nick and he broke into a proud smile. "Thanks for the props, boss." The chance to nail Mike Rodgers for the murder of Samantha Hatcher was a gift from Grissom. It was a chance to redeem himself even though none of his team members, Sara included, thought there was any reason he should feel responsible for Mike's nefarious actions.

The Prosecutor also agreed that Nick was the logical choice to take the stand. Nick, like Mike, oozed good boy charm, which the Prosecutor felt would significantly help with the female jurors. Also, Nick had a way of presenting evidence without sounding like a heady scientist, always helpful when you had a panel of non-academics.

Nick of course realized the flip side of the coin. If he didn't do a good enough job and the jury found Mike not guilty…a murderer, rapist and potential stalker of Sara Sidle, would be walking the streets by noon today.

When it came to the jury believing the evidence, Nick, like Grissom, knew the odds were stacked against them. Sometimes good theatrics from a defendant eager to take the stand trumped good science

The prosecutor predicted the defense team would attack Wendy Blake's character as a witness. The prediction turned out to be a gross understatement…they annihilated her. They drudged up college acquaintances who testified that Wendy was a party girl with a jealous streak over her sister's boyfriend. By the time the defense was done, the Prosecutor actually believed Wendy's gut-wrenching testimony wouldn't matter at all, maybe even hurt the case.

Then Mike Rodgers took the stand and things got worse. Having months in jail to perfect his performance, Mike didn't disappoint. If testimony was eligible for an Oscar nomination, Nick was certain Mike's name would show up on the finalist ballot this year. The bastard glowed when discussing his first love, Samantha Hatcher, wept like a baby when he recounted losing her and went on and on about Samantha's parents still treating him like a member of the family for years after losing their daughter. All of that was_ before_ the defense attorney got around to discussing Mike's character.

Because the death of Mike's wife had been ruled accidental, it wasn't allowed into evidence. Nor was the accidental death of Tamara Carter, a fiancé of Mike's, that the team discovered while working the case. What was allowed? An endless parade of glowing character witnesses. They even had a little old lady babbling on about Mike rescuing her poodle from a well.

When Warrick joined the guys in the lobby, Grissom immediately asked, "How's Sara?" Checking his watch he noted it had been ten minutes since she went to the restroom.

"They're BS'ing and fixing their lipstick, stop worrying. Catherine said they would be out in a minute" Shoving his hands in his pockets Warrick exhaled sharply. "Did the prosecutor give us odds?"

"80-20 against us." Nick grumbled.

Out of breath, Greg joined the group. "Sorry I'm late."

Nick shot him a look. "You were hitting on that court reporter weren't you?"

Waving a slip of paper, Greg grinned. "Who has the phone number of a gorgeous woman?"

Grissom snatched the paper. "This is a courthouse Greg not a bar. We're here for a verdict and you're _trolling_?"

Warrick groaned, "Not much of a team player, Greggo."

"Hey!" Greg grabbed the phone number back. "Easy for the two of you to pass judgment. You already took the lab's best babes off the market. I have no choice but to outsource because Mabel in Trace, squicks me out, Diane in ballistics has that weird toe thing going on and every other female already turned me down or slept with Nick…or both."

Greg could always be counted on to provide the comic relief. In this tense situation, the guys simultaneously appreciated having a stress reducing laugh.

Catherine and Sara exchanged curious glances as they approached the boisterous bunch of boys.

Sara smiled, "Care to let us in on the joke?"

Relieved to see Sara smiling, Grissom moved to her side. "You okay?" Since jury deliberation began she wasn't sleeping much and when she did, she often tossed and turned.

With a confident nod she replied, "Just needed a few minutes to put my game face on. I'm not going to let that bastard see me sweat."

Motioning for her to follow him, Grissom and Sara moved away from the group. With his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't instinctively reach out to comfort her, Grissom soothed, "Honey, whatever happens in there we'll handle it."

"I know." The reassurance in his eyes was all she needed. "I'm not worried for me. I want justice for Samantha and Wendy and I want to keep that creep off the street."

"Of course." He breathed easier.

As Catherine watched Gil and Sara talk on the fringes of the group, she couldn't help but smile. There they were soothing each other but to anyone outside of the team it would appear they were discussing mundane lab results.

It was this way from the moment they began their relationship…consummate professionalism. Sure there were differences, the two most noticeable: they both smiled a lot more and they almost always had matching nights off. As far as work performance, they were more effective on the job than ever…as if that were even possible since they were perfectionists to begin with.

They were so good at hiding their personal relationship that one day in the break room Max Clark, the DNA tech who filled Greg's spot, decided to ask Sara out. It was one of Greg's favorite stories to tell because it was the first time he pulled something over on the new DNA guy.

_Sara was sitting at the break room table working on her dissertation while Greg, Grissom, Nick and Max were across the room gathered around the water cooler. _

_Max curiously inquired, "Boss, I've only been here a few months so I'm not sure what the protocol is about this sort of thing. Greg told me I should ask you." _

"_Shoot." Grissom replied as he took a sip of coffee. _

"_I want to ask out Sara but I'm not sure if it's against department policy." _

_After desperately trying to swallow his coffee without spitting it, Grissom replied, "Greg told you to ask me this?" _

_Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Greg replied, "Just trying to help out the newbie." _

_Grissom unemotionally answered the question. "Officially the only department policy is two people under the same supervisor can't marry but really Max, interoffice dating isn't recommended." _

_Surprised Grissom was playing along; Nick decided to push the envelope. "Boss…does that mean it's okay for an employee to marry her supervisor?" _

"_No, Nick." Grissom shot him a look. "That's not okay either." _

_Hiding his smirk behind his mug Nick mumbled, "Just checking." _

"_Cool! Then I won't get in trouble for taking Sara out." Max grinned. "And when it works out and we decide to tie the knot, then one of us will have to find a different job." _

_Nick chuckled into his mug. "Fat chance pal." _

"_What did you say?" Max asked. _

"_Sara's a great gal!" Nick slapped him on the back. "What are you waiting for Maxie, go for it." _

_While Max approached the break room table, Grissom, Nick and Greg watched on the sidelines, ready to see Max shot down. _

"_Hi Sara." Max remarked as he sat on the edge of the table._

_Her head buried in a book she didn't look up. "Do you have my results from the Lopez case?"_

"_I'm here for another reason actually." Looking back at the guys he was glad to see they were all egging him on with gestures._

" _Sara…after shift today…."_

_While noting some figures she replied. "Uh huh." _

"_I was uh…wondering. Would you like to have lunch with me?" _

_Finally looking up, she smiled brightly. "Sure, that sounds great. I'd love to go out with you, Max." _

_While Max broke into a huge grin, Nick, Greg and Grissom's mouths dropped open. _

"_Cool!" Max headed for the door. _

"_Oh Max." Sara sweetly called after him. "You didn't mean a lunch **date** did you? You meant a co-worker kind of thing, right? Because I'm in a serious relationship and I wouldn't want to lead you on." _

_Nick and Greg, released an audible gasp along with Grissom. _

"_Yeah, that's what I meant." Max brushed off his disappointment. _

_When Max was gone, Sara walked over to the coffee pot smirking. "Gotcha! You know, just because I have my head in a book doesn't mean I'm not listening." Narrowing her focus on Grissom she teased, "What's your pulse at now, honey?" _

How Gil and Sara managed it Catherine couldn't fathom because she and Warrick had slips all the time. Like yesterday for example…

_Standing in the DNA lab waiting for Max to return, Catherine and Warrick were in the corner of the room discussing plans for their next night off. _

_Tucking her hair behind her ear, Catherine said, "I think we should get a room at the Bellagio and never leave the bed." _

"_Except to let in room service. We'll need something..." _

"_Strawberries for the champagne." Her eyes sparkled. _

"_Whipped Cream." He salivated just thinking about it. _

"_To lick off your…" _

"_AHEM!" Max dropped his pile of folders on the table. "My ears people! You know the boss once told me that interoffice dating isn't recommended so you better learn to be more discreet." _

_Catherine nodded. "Thanks, we'll try harder." _

_Warrick concurred. "Absolutely we'll get right on that tomorrow night." _

But Gil and Sara's perfect level of professionalism didn't bug Catherine half as much as the meta-connection the two of them seemed to develop around five months into the relationship.

When she worked a scene with them she was often unnerved by the fact that Sara and Gil could be across the room from one another and _still_ know what each other were thinking. Why didn't Warrick and I have this kind of connection she wondered? A couple of weeks ago she finally figured out the puzzle. It wasn't some spiritual connection linking Gil and Sara's minds when they were forty feet apart. They were reading each other's lips and slipping in a few signs.

When Catherine asked him about it over one of their regular breakfast meetings last week, he told her that once Sara knew about his ear surgery and the potential for the problem to reoccur she wanted to be prepared so he was teaching her. It was the perfect opportunity for Catherine to needle him…

"_Sounds like Sara is in it for the long haul, huh?" _

_Grissom only smiled. _

"_You know, for better or worse, in sickness and in health." Catherine teased, "Time to start shopping for a ring don't you think?" _

"_You know that's not possible." _

_Chuckling, she pointed out "Hey, department rules only prohibit the piece of paper, not the diamonds! Haven't you heard? They're a girl's best friend." _

Nick's voice boomed through the courtroom lobby refocusing everyone on the trial. "Room's open! Verdict time!"

Filing into the fourth row, Nick, Grissom, Sara, Warrick, Catherine and Greg presented a united front. They worked together to bring the case this far, together they would accept the jury's decision.

Grissom watched Wendy Blake, arm in arm with her husband, sitting defiantly in the first row in full view of the Rodgers. Days earlier when he expressed his apologies to her for the trial being so difficult on her she told him that no matter how degrading the process was she had no regrets. Mike Rodgers had no power over her anymore and after freeing the secrets which haunted her for over twenty years she was finally at peace and her family was stronger than ever. Seven months ago he wouldn't have comprehended her words. Today he had no problem.

When the court clerk opened the verdict slip, Nick lowered his head, preparing for the worst. Sara, on the other hand, turned her gaze toward the accused for the first time. In her mind she calmly said, this is for Samantha. She's watching through me.

A hush fell over the room when the clerk started to speak. "State of Nevada versus Michael Rodgers. We the jury in the above-entitled cause find the defendant, Michael Rodgers, guilty of the crime of murder of Samantha Hatcher. Dated April 22, 2005. Signed, Juror number six."

Nick couldn't believe his ears so he glanced over at Grissom who simply remarked, "You heard right. Science trumped theatre." Breaking into a grin, he boasted, "I've never been more proud of forensics or you."

The clerk continued. "We the jury find the degree of murder to be that of the first degree. Dated April 22, 2005. Signed Juror number six."

Sara released the trapped air from her lungs and smiled…directly at Mike. A deer in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler wouldn't have looked shocked as he did and on behalf of Samantha she savored the moment. "Busted," she mouthed in his direction hoping he could read her lips.

* * *

Outside the courthouse Nick, Sara, Warrick and Catherine celebrated their victory while Grissom spoke to Wendy Blake and her family in the lobby. 

Glancing around Nick huffed, "Where the hell is Sanders?"

Laughing Sara pointed down the block. "Chasing a skirt…a very short skirt." Greg had told her a month ago, now that he was a full-fledged CSI he loved answering a woman when she asked, 'so what do you do for a living' because Crime Scene Investigator sounded much sexier than Lab Tech and got better play with the ladies. From watching him lately Sara knew Greg was trying to get asked the question as frequently as possible. Now that she was no longer pursuing her own catch it was cute to watch him fish.

Shaking his head, Nick steamed, "That guy…"

"Oh please." Catherine shot Nick a look. "Like you didn't act the same way. Listen, Peter Pan, just because you finally decided to grow up don't ruin it for the boy. Greg needs to sow some wild oats so one day he can grow up and be man."

Warrick chimed in. "I don't think Nick's tension has anything to do with Greg. I think it's directly related to the fact that he's gone many months without a woman. Remember how tense Grissom used to be."

Nick groaned. "Who would have thought the day would come when Grissom was having more sex than me."

While turning six shades of red, Sara snapped her fingers. "Hello. I'm standing right here. You can shut up now."

Warrick apologized while laughing along with Nick and Catherine. "Sorry, Sara." Like siblings grating on each other, they loved teasing Sara when Grissom wasn't around. Although she acted ticked most of the time they knew she enjoyed the twisted camaraderie.

Returning to the original conversation, Nick said, "Okay, okay, I'll cut Greggo some slack."

After setting up Sara and Mike with an almost disastrous result, Nick had taken a long, hard look at his own reckless courting practices. The self-analysis combined with conversations with Warrick, discussing the benefits of being in a committed relationship with a woman, led Nick to a conclusion. Fleeting relationships were no longer satisfying and dating as a sport wasn't going to work anymore. Unfortunately he hadn't found his dream girl yet.

Catherine smiled, "Nick, you don't want to be like one of those ex-smokers who go all holier than thou when someone lights up. It turns people off and they won't learn a thing." As she learned in the Parenting Your Teen seminar she attended last month, when you tell people they're forbidden to do something, it only makes it more enticing. "Educate Greg and support him, then he'll make the right choices and if he doesn't make sure he knows he can come to you for help."

Placing a hand on Catherine's shoulder, Warrick said, "Listen to her Nick, she's a pro at this stuff now."

As a man who never knew his father and had lost his mother at an early age, Warrick knew the impacts of instability in the home. If it weren't for his grandmother taking him in and coming down hard on him he might not have made it to eighteen.

At the time he was too stubborn to appreciate his grandmother's actions and managed to find quiet ways to rebel such as gambling on the sly but now as an adult he knew the profound influence she had on his life and was eternally grateful. To honor her, when the time came, he drew upon her life lessons to help out Catherine.

About three months into their relationship Warrick sat Catherine down for a heart to heart. He started the conversation with a recollection…Catherine telling him that she feared Lindsay's apple didn't fall far from Eddie's tree. He pointed out that Lindsay wasn't becoming Eddie, she was becoming Catherine…rebelling, running, reaching. Lindsay actions were those of a girl trying to prove she's tough when really she's wounded and looking for comfort.

At first, Catherine wasn't receptive of the message...

_Standing in Warrick's living room, Catherine yelled, "I can't believe you're trying to tell me how to be a parent. What do you know about being a parent? How can you stand there and judge me?"_

"_I'm not judging you." Calmly he explained, "You keep bringing up all these problems you have with Lindsay and I thought we were close enough now for you to hear my opinion. I think you need to make some changes. I've felt this way for a long time, Catherine. It wasn't my place to tell you before but…" _

"_And it's still not!" After grabbing her purse she bolted out the door, slamming it behind her._

"_Damn." Warrick walked to his desk and grabbed his keys. _

_But before he could get out the door, Catherine was coming back through. Tears welling up in her eyes, she said, "You're right. I need help with this. I'll listen to what you have to say." The tears started to roll. "I don't know why I do what I do." _

_Tossing his keys he took her in his arms. "We'll figure it out." _

_Crying on his shoulder she realized it had been many years since she had a soft place to fall. "I'm sorry for yelling." _

"_Don't worry about it." He soothed knowing her anger wasn't directed at him. "Baby before you can be a better mom to Lindsay, you need to ask yourself a few questions. Like what are you still running from? What are you still trying to prove? Why can't you stay home once in a while and just be a mom instead of being out on the town with me showing everyone you're the life of the party?" Wiping away her tears he whispered, "You can stop trying to prove how fun and sexy and beautiful you are because I already know that. You don't have to be that girl anymore. You can relax. I'm not going anywhere." _

_His words, his delivery, his eyes…they all assured her she could believe him and she nestled further into his embrace. "A girl could love a man who says those kinds of things." _

"_Good." He kissed the top of her head. "Because he'd be happy to love her back."_

"Hey!" Brass grabbed the team's attention. "I know, I know, I'm late." Adjusting his tie he quipped, "But that's how it is when you're the top dog…you get mired in bureaucratic B.S. and miss all the fun."

"We won!" Nick proclaimed.

"The victims won," Sara was quick to correct him. "But we get to share the victory."

Catherine chimed in. "Another great day for _your_ lab, Sir."

"You guys make it easy on me. Now if only I could say the same about the day shift." He rolled his eyes. "What a crew."

Sara teased, "Not every team can be the best. Isn't that why you're getting the big bucks now, to straighten everyone else out?"

During the three weeks following the Ecklie fiasco, the Director hounded Grissom daily to take the AD spot. While fully acknowledging that Grissom was politically dense, the Director felt they needed someone with a clean reputation and a penchant for honesty to help recover from the recent scandal.

Grissom of course didn't consider the offer for even a moment but try as he might to point out his disinterest, the Director wouldn't relent. It didn't help matters that during the same three weeks the Director was demanding more of his time and energy Grissom was trying to build a relationship with Sara. Try as he might, work kept getting in the way. Their second date ended abruptly when he was summoned by the Director to straighten out problems on the swing shift team then everyday after that something always came up.

Although Sara and Grissom managed to find small blocks of time together, it was never enough and always left them wanting more. When two people realize they've wasted years, they want to make up for lost time.

Finally, one day, Grissom thought of a way to solve his, Sara's and the Director's problem.

Sara recalled it well, so well, she was sure she'd never forget that day as long as she lived…

_It was eight o'clock at night and Grissom just walked through Sara's door. Although they both had the night off it didn't guarantee they wouldn't end up at work, considering the way things were around the lab. _

_After greeting her with tender kiss, he asked, "Were you able to get some sleep?" _

"_I did. I feel great." She smiled. "What about you?" _

"_Yes. I think those were the only six consecutive hours I got in weeks." _

_Holding hands they walked to the couch and fell back into each other's arms. "You may as well take the job if the Director is going to make you do it without the title." _

"_Never." He sighed as he pulled her closer. _

_Looking into his eyes, she asked a leading question. "Too much time away from the field?" _

_Recognizing a defining moment when he heard one, he replied, "Too much time away from you." He paused to brush a kiss over her lips. "I just got a life. The last thing I want to do is spend more time away from it." _

"_Plus you would miss being in the field." Grinning she said, "It's okay to admit it's not only about me."_

"_Okay, I'd miss that too." Smiling back he said, "But I'm hoping after tonight the problem will be solved for all of us and the lab." _

"_How so?" _

_Brimming with pride, he related the details. "This morning after you left work, I marched into the Director's office and told him if he respected me enough to give me the job then he should respect me enough to take my recommendation and give the job to the person of my choice. Then I said if he didn't listen to me then I might have to consider leaving the lab and going elsewhere. I told him to give the AD position to Brass and let me get back to my job and my life."_

"_Whoa." She straightened up against the couch. "Quite a bold political power play for you." She knew he wanted Brass to get the job but never thought he would demand it. _

"_Well…I can't take all the credit, I thought of the perfect replacement but it was Catherine who told me how to execute the plan. She pointed out that I had all the balls in my court." _

"_Do you think the Director will meet your demand?" _

_Grinning, he happily informed her, "He was inviting Jim to dinner when I walked out of the office. By tomorrow morning I'm hoping I have a new boss and my old life back." Immediately he corrected the statement. "My old **work** life back." _

_Sighing, she glumly said, "You're still on call tonight though, right?" _

"_Third on the list." _

_She nodded. "I'm seventh." _

"_Catherine is in charge." He shrugged. "I'm sure she can handle whatever comes up."_

_Sara started to perk up. "It's Tuesday…lowest crime day of the week." With a tentative smile, she asked, "Do you think we could…" _

_He lit up. "I definitely could and since I'm your supervisor I say you can." _

"_Okay then." Jumping up from the couch Sara walked over to her desk to shut off her pager and cell phone. _

_Standing up, Grissom pulled his pager off his belt and cell phone out of his pocket, powered them down and tossed them on the coffee table. "Done."_

"_Just in case." Sara shut her home phone off. "Now, no one can contact us unless they bang on the door." _

_Grissom quickly pointed out, "And even then, we don't have to answer."_

"_That's true." _

_With a smile rising on his face he said, "Now we have all evening." _

"_Actually, I'm not expected anywhere until work tomorrow night." _

"_I don't have to be anywhere until then either." _

_An awkward silence enveloped the room as they stood ten feet apart eyeing each other, contemplating what they just discovered. _

_Sara broke the moment by walking toward the kitchen. "You want a drink? I mean since we're not expected to be anywhere we can have a drink, right?" _

"_Definitely." _

"_Great." The corners of her lips tipped into a smile. "I'll see what I have." _

_While she was in the kitchen Grissom picked up an issue of Forensic Science Communications from the end table. "Did you read the article in here on glass fractures?" He held up the publication for her to see. _

_With a trembling hand, she poured two shots of rum in her glass, one in his and very little coke in both. "The part on Wallner lines?" _

"_Yeah."_

"_Good information." Returning to the living room she handed him a tumbler. "Rum and coke, that's all I have." _

"_That's fine." _

_He took a sip while she gulped. _

"_Grissom…" Her voice wavered. "Can I…I need to ask you…" She took another sip before breaking into a nervous smile. "I have to get something out of the way here. When you said you didn't have to be anywhere until tomorrow night were you thinking… were you... planning to stay?" Over talking her point, she rambled on. "I mean…stay the **whole** night…together…but not necessarily in this particular room." _

_After swallowing another sip of his drink he cautiously replied, "That depends…do you want me to stay?" He set the half full glass on the end table. _

_Finishing her drink she put her glass next to his. "If you_ _want to stay… then, I want you to stay." As nervous as she was about him staying, the thought that he might not spend the night made her tenser. "So um…do you want to stay?"_

_Locking his eyes on hers, he boldly said, "I'd love to stay, Sara." _

"_Good." Breathing deeply, she said, "Good. I'm glad we got that out of the way." Suddenly she was twice as nervous. _

_Taking the magazine out of his hand, she plopped on the couch. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like discuss Wallner lines until the rum kicks in." _

_Joining her on the couch, he snuggled up beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "We can discuss Wallner lines as long as you'd like." _

_Smiling she nestled into his arms. "Tell me something about them." _

"_Wallner lines are almost always concave in the direction from which a crack is propagating." _

"_Very good." Confident in her knowledge of glass fractures, she tossed the magazine aside. "By observing the Wallner lines on radial cracks can you determine the direction of the breaking force?" _

"_Yes, you can." Taking her hand in his he spoke softly, "But it's very important that you observe the Wallner lines only at the point of impact."_

_While quivering from his touch she forced out her next question. "What if the impact point is not preserved?" _

"_The glass must be reconstructed." He smoothly replied before bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss over it. _

_Closing her eyes she dreamily asked, "What about the 4R rule?" _

_Between whispering each of the four R's in the rule, he planted a kiss on her neck. "**Ridges** on **Radial Cracks** are at **Right** **Angle** to the **Rear**." _

"_Um…very**… **good." Although she knew Grissom was often **verbally **inarticulate whencommunicating his feelings, she quickly realized he was quite confident communicating **physically**. "Is the um…4R rule reliable with laminated glass?" His touch sent her body temperature soaring and she was certain he could see the flush of desire on her cheeks. _

"_No it's not." He murmured while nibbling on her ear. "Tempered glass either, right?" _

_A pleasure-filled gasp slipped through her parted lips before replying. "Absolutely right." _

_Caressing her cheek while gazing into her eyes, he whispered, "Anything else you want to discuss about glass fractures?" _

_Every inch of her aching for his kiss, she stammered. "No…you were... very thorough." _

_Tenderly he asked, "Is there anything else we should discuss, Sara?" _

"_No…I…" Breathless with anticipation, she moved her hands up his chest until they rested on his shoulders. _

"_The rum kick in yet?" He sweetly inquired while grazing his lips over hers. _

"_Who needs rum when I have you?" She murmured before pressing her lips to his. _

_The next morning, when Sara and Grissom turned on their cell phones they were pleased to find out Jim Brass was the new Assistant Director of the Crime Lab. Now Grissom would no longer be at the Director's beck and call which meant more time for nights like the wonderful one they just shared. To celebrate, Sara 'cooked' breakfast, bananas and chocolate, the only two edible things she had in her kitchen. When she apologized for the lack of decent food, Grissom swore it was the best meal he ever had…in bed._

Brass taunted Sara. "So what's on the brunch menu tomorrow? Are you cooking Sara?"

Nick cringed. "If that's the case I'll bring the antacids."

"Very funny." She rolled her eyes. "You can rest easy. Grissom's cooking."

Catherine excitedly said, "Finally an invite to the mini-mansion. I can't believe you've lived there for two months without giving any of us even a peek. Well, actually I can."

Brass muttered under his breath to Nick and Warrick, "Probably too busy christening the rooms."

The guys enjoyed the joke while Catherine pressed for more details. "Sara, please tell me you didn't let the bugs move in with you."

"Of course the bugs moved with us! They have their own room." Laughing she replied, "He's an entomologist and they're his kids. Warrick, you wouldn't tell Catherine to leave Lindsay behind if you got a place together would you?"

"Hell no."

Catherine nodded while still shivering at the thought of all the bugs.

Sara assured her it wasn't a bug free for all. "We're very good at compromising. You know like…bugs are fine in certain places, just not in the bedroom. And since I'm a vegetarian, no meat in the kitchen. The bugs' meat stays in the bug room.

Catherine summarized. "So no bugs in the bedroom, no meat in the kitchen."

Brass grabbed Nick's shoulder and whispered, "I guess Grissom should be thankful that meat is allowed in the bedroom." They clung to each other while turning red from laughter.

"I heard that." Sara rolled her eyes. "And you wonder why we didn't have you guys over sooner." Turning back to Catherine, she said, "Besides, we couldn't have you over to eat until the dining set came in."

"Yeah, I heard about this table." Catherine chuckled. At one of their breakfast meetings a few weeks ago, she thoroughly enjoyed giving Grissom a hard time about it…

"_How much was it?" He already told her but she wanted him to say it again. _

"_You heard me." He laughed before taking a bite of eggs. _

"_You are spoiling her rotten! She doesn't seem to mind either." Laughing she joked, "I always suspected Sara had a father-figure issue but I never thought it was a sugar-daddy she was looking for." _

"_I enjoy buying her things so maybe I'm one being spoiled." He could tell Catherine wasn't tracking. "How old were you when you received your first gift from a guy?" _

"_Thirteen. Matt Muldoon." Wistfully she recalled the moment as if it were yesterday. "Eyes as blue as the sky and a blinding million watt smile. Gave me a heart locket and I swore I would never take it off." _

"_How old was he?" _

"_Seventeen." After swirling her drink around, she took a sip. _

_A little stunned, Grissom stated his concern. "That's a pretty big age difference." _

_Catherine choked down her drink and blurted, "Excuse me? When you were seventeen your gift to Sara would have been made by Fischer Price!" _

_He droned, "I meant **developmental**_ _age **at the time** not chronological age." _

"_In that case." Catherine flipped her hair. "I was the one robbing the cradle because as it turned out, Matt Muldoon was seventeen going on very immature. He cheated on me with a cheerleader. Found them behind the bleachers. I told him I threw the locket away but I still have it." Snapping back from the moment, she asked, "Before I took that bittersweet stroll down memory lane, did you have a point you were trying to make?" _

"_Yes." He lowered his fork. "Matt Muldoon was seventeen when he first started giving girls gifts and since he was a ladies man he probably hasn't stopped. I didn't start until last year. Same number of gifts... different timeline for giving them…he gives gifts to many women...I give all of mine to one." _

_She gave him credit with a nod. "Okay…but you bought her a million dollar house. Are they paying you off scale at the lab or are you taking checks from Sam Braun?" _

"_Neither but I'm not worried about going bankrupt any time soon." He smirked, knowing what was coming next. _

"_Sounds like a blank waiting to be filled." Sitting back she ordered him to give it to her. "Start talking." _

_It was part of the arrangement. They would go out to eat every couple of weeks. He would always order meat because it wasn't allowed at home. They took turns picking up the check. In exchange for helping him with any relationship questions, he filled in a blank from his life. Although the day she had to help him understand the dynamics of a woman's monthly hormone levels she demanded two blanks, which he agreed was more than a fair price. Lately though, he had a lot less questions so she was eager for a piece of the puzzle._

_Grissom began his tale. "Well…when I came to Vegas I started playing poker and as you know already, I was pretty good at it. I was in the tournament circle for a while and suffice it to say I pocketed a bit of cash." _

"_Enough to buy the palace?" _

"_No. Enough that I had to invest it so I wouldn't get creamed by the IRS." Grinning he explained. "Twenty years ago Vegas wasn't the residential boom town it is today."_

"_Ugh." She dropped her head in her hand. "Don't tell me…you're one of those lucky SOBs with foresight." _

"_No. Not at all." He continued. "I bought the land thinking one day I would make the biggest body farm in the country." _

"_Of course. I should have guessed…bugs." She rolled her eyes. "But today the land is smack in the middle of the suburban sprawl path and you cashed out for a bundle." _

"_Blank filled." He raised his glass. "I could buy her several houses, let her fill each room and still have money to spare." _

_Baffled, she asked, "So why are you still working Daddy Warbucks?" _

_He was a bit surprised she even had to ask. "Because I love my job." _

"_Of course." She sighed. "Why did I even bother to ask? Oh and from now on, Mr. Moneybags, you pick up the check." She rolled her eyes. "I can only imagine how much money you're letting her pour into your bedroom." _

Laughing, Sara warned the gang. "I'm telling you right now. No one goes in the bedroom. You guys will just snoop around looking for fodder for your twisted jokes."

Brass feigned an offensive tone. "Frankly, I'm shocked by that accusation."

"Guess who has a second phone number!" Greg rejoined the group bragging. "Two phone numbers in one day! Nick…are you sure you don't want to start hanging out with me to find a woman. I'm an atom and they are the free electrons just waiting to bond with me."

Sara was quick to expand on his theory. "In order for an electron to bond to an atom, the atom first has to be unbalanced. Are you unbalanced Greg?"

Before Nick could add his own smart ass remark, Grissom joined the group bringing Wendy Blake and another woman with him. "Nick…you have some fans."

Wendy immediately extended her hand. "I can't thank you enough, Mr. Stokes."

With boyish charm, he returned the handshake. "I was only doing my job, ma'am."

Wendy gestured to the petite brunette standing beside her. "My sister-in-law wanted to meet you too."

"Hi." The perky thirty year old wearing a fitted Tahari tweed suit and genuine smile, reached out for a handshake. "I'm Carrie Blake."

"Nice to meet you, Carrie." Nick clasped her hand. "I'm Nick Stokes."

The rest of the group took a step back to listen and observe.

Greg turned to Warrick, whispering, "She's real cute but not his type. Nick's a leg man and she's barely five-three. Plus the suit…kind of stuffy. He likes his women flashier."

Catherine chimed in. "That's a $500 dollar suit and you don't know what kind of lace may lie beneath. Maybe she's a librarian…you know what they say about them."

Greg made a mental note to go to the library tomorrow.

Carrie released Nick's hand and said, "I'm an attorney in Seattle. I wanted to tell you that I was very impressed with your presentation of the evidence."

"Thank you." Nick gushed. "Like I told your sister-in-law, it's my job."

Catherine whispered to Greg. "You want wager a little money on this?"

"How much?"

"Twenty bucks says they leave here with plans for a date."

"You're on."

It was Wendy's turn to gush. "You should be flattered, Mr. Stokes. My sister-in-law has quite a reputation in Seattle and she doesn't toss a compliment lightly."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "If you call a few death threats a reputation, then I guess I have one."

Curious, Sara asked, "What kind of attorney are you?"

"I specialize in victim's rights and work in conjunction with the Prosecutor's office. Specifically I help bring justice to abused children. The death threats were a result of me bringing down a church that had some non-traditional practices where children are concerned if you get my drift."

Nick's tone turned warmer. "Now I'm impressed."

Smiling at her sister-in-law, Carrie said, "The death threats…that's why Wendy and my brother are trying to talk me into relocating to Vegas."

Catherine, having inside knowledge regarding Nick's past, slapped Greg on the shoulder and whispered. "Another wager for you…hundred bucks says they're engaged by Christmas."

Wendy, sensing a connection was being made, suggested, "Mr. Stokes, maybe you could help convince Carrie that Vegas is a wonderful place to work and live." Then she returned to her husband and other family members.

Cracking a smile, Nick said, "I'd be happy to give it a shot. Carrie, if you would like, I don't have to be at work until ten. I could take you around the city and maybe out for some dinner."

"I'd like that," She sweetly replied.

"We can always use another crusader in Vegas." Sara said as she winked at Nick. "So do your best." Then turning to Carrie she said, "Nick is a CSI but he's also a philanthropist. He and I started a non-profit organization that provides backpacks filled with comfort items to kids who end up in the foster care system, many of the kids come from abuse situations."

"Really?" Carrie beamed with delight. "I'd love to hear more about it."

Catherine snickered in Greg's ear. "That's twenty bucks, Sanders. Cough it up. And save your pennies because you're going to owe me a hundred by year's end."


	27. Epilogue Part 2 of 5

**EPILOGUE - Part 2 of 5**

_**Four hours later…**_

When he heard Sara's car pull into the driveway, Grissom stopped shelving books in the library and headed down the hall to greet her.

In the entryway, she cheerily announced, "I'm home," before tossing her purse and keys on their new Pottery Barn honey oak console table.

When he rounded the corner, he was happy to see a sunny smile on Sara's face. "I take it your session went well." He stated as he slipped his arms around her waist.

"It was great," she eagerly replied while curling her arms around his neck. "Dr. Meyers heard about Mike's conviction on the radio before I even got there. We talked about that and the rest was all progress review."

"Excellent." He was thrilled with her progress considering how far she had come.

It was only seven weeks into their relationship when Grissom first realized Sara needed more help than he or an underpaid, overworked PEAP counselor could give her…

_In his new capacity as Assistant Director, Jim Brass liked to go into the field to observe the CSIs in action. On this particular day in November, he had stopped by the scene of a heartbreaking case involving an ex-husband who brutalized and murdered his ex-wife in front of their two small children. Shortly after arriving, he found Sara in the alley behind the home. With several of the day CSIs out with the flu, Sara was there filling in. When he noticed she was shaking uncontrollably, he whisked her into his car and drove her to Grissom's. _

_When Grissom opened the door he was shocked to see Sara pale and trembling. "Honey, what's wrong?" Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her. "What is it, Sara?" _

"_She wouldn't tell me anything except to take her home." Looking over at Sara, Brass explained, "Which I wouldn't do because I didn't think she should be alone. Instead I brought her here." _

_Sara finally spoke. "I'm fine. I…I just need to throw some water on my face." Slipping out of Grissom's arms she hurried inside. _

"_What the hell happened out there?" Grissom probed. "What was she working on?" _

"_Ex-husband messed up his wife real good, then slit her throat while their four year old and six year old kids watched. I asked around…Sara was fine until a caseworker showed up for the kids." _

_Baffled by the sudden change in Sara's demeanor, Grissom looked to his friend for answers. "What do you think is wrong?" _

_Brass took a step closer. "Before Tahoe there was something going on with her and it had nothing to do with you. Like the night she was working the Ellers case, it was obvious. And her drinking..."_

"_That was one time, Jim." _

"_No…it wasn't just once." He could tell Grissom was worried. "Look, I think the excitement of the new relationship with you probably suppressed it for a while but this case today…something about it brought it back to the surface. Stuff that deep never really goes away if it's not dealt with right?" _

_Perplexed by the sudden drama when everything was going so well, Grissom asked, "Why do you think she wanted to go home instead of come here?" _

_Brass shrugged. "Maybe she thinks you can't handle whatever it is she's hiding. Maybe she thinks it will hurt the relationship." His tone turned serious. "Maybe she still remembers how you left her in Tahoe when the going got rough. I know I do." _

_Grissom winced at the mention of the bad memory._

"_But no matter what it is she's got bottled up, you're going to handle it, right?" Brass nodded. "I know you are. Better go check on her." _

"_Thanks for bringing her here." Grissom said before closing the door. _

"_Sara?" He called out as he walked down the hall toward the bathroom. "Honey, are you sure you're okay?" When she didn't answer, he knocked lightly. "Can I come in?" Getting no response, he tried the doorknob which he was relieved to find unlocked. "Sara…" _

_Peering inside, he saw her sitting in the corner of the bathroom, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Honey, what is it?" He rushed to her side. "Whatever it is you can tell me." _

_Trying to catch her breath she replied, "I…I think I need help." _

_In the privacy of his home, as Sara cried in his arms, Grissom listened to her unearth the painful secrets trapped inside of her...the death of her father, the loss of her mother, the years spent moving from one foster family to another, never having a home of her own. As she spoke, her pain tore at his soul. _

_That day he knew…he loved her more than he ever imagined possible and those things he used to fear losing were meaningless in comparison to the value of having someone to hold…someone with whom you could bare your heart and soul. _

"_I love you, Sara," He whispered for the first time. "Whatever it takes we'll get you through this. You're going to be okay." _

_Later that afternoon, when Sara finally slept he slipped out of her arms. But instead of running out the door when the going got tough, he dug in and worked to find Sara the help she needed. Dr. Sylvia Myers was the top in the field and after making an impassioned plea, Grissom was able to get Sara an appointment with her the next day. _

In the comfort of Grissom's reassuring arms, Sara closed her eyes and gently rested her head on his shoulder. "I couldn't have made it this far without you." As she learned early in their relationship, he wasn't the solution to her problems; he was her soft place to fall while she worked through them.

In her ear he lovingly whispered, "So…how many bags do you have in the car?"

Breaking into a sweet laugh, she opened her eyes and took a step back. "No bags, just a floor lamp for my office."

As part of her therapy the doctor insisted she find a hobby that had absolutely nothing to do with law enforcement. One night while flipping through TV channels she happened upon a show called Trading Spaces. Building on her existing addiction to Pottery Barn, she decided home improvement would be a good hobby choice.

"Only a lamp?" Grissom was shocked.

A couple of months into her new therapeutic hobby, Grissom realized Sara had reworked every inch of her apartment as well as Roxie's kitchen.

Deciding Sara desperately needed more space and he desperately needed more time with her, he started house hunting on the sly. When he finally found the perfect place, he couldn't wait to surprise her…

_As Grissom drove through the unfamiliar neighborhood, Sara remarked, "Where are we going to breakfast? Is it a new place?"_

"_Before breakfast, I need your opinion on something I want to buy."_

"_What is it?" _

_Building the mystery, he replied. "I can't tell you. I have to show it to you." _

"_Uh oh…how many legs does it have? Is it that tarantula you were talking about last night?" _

_Laughing at her natural assumption, he replied, "It doesn't have any legs." _

"_Why are we stopping here?" Sara curiously asked as Grissom pulled the car to the curb. _

"_Because this is what I want to buy." Pointing to the sprawling thirty year old ranch home he casually said, "It's a wonderfully constructed house on a fantastic piece of land but the décor is very 'seventies mob wife'. I don't want to make the investment without knowing I'll have the decorating support I need to make it livable." _

_Expecting the purchase to be bugs not real estate, Sara was completely caught off guard. _

_Handing her a folder, he said, "Here are photos of the inside. Think you could help solve my problem?" _

_Flipping through the pictures, she saw past the gaudy interior design and immediately fell in love with the architecture. "It has an enormous amount of potential." _

_Watching her study the floor plan he softly replied, "That's what I was thinking." _

_Noting the high square footage, Sara commented, "Five thousand square feet? This is a lot of space." _

"_Yeah…too big for one person." Taking her hand he sweetly asked, "Do you think you could help solve that problem too_?"

"_You mean…" _

"_I want this to be our house, Sara. Our home." Squeezing her hand tighter, he said, "I love you. I want you in my life forever. What do you think?" _

_Tears welling up in her eyes, she replied, "Love and stability…the two things I always wanted and thought I would never get. Now I have both." Tears of happiness flowed down her cheeks. "Thank you." Throwing her arms around him she gave him the answer he couldn't wait to hear. "Yes!" _

"Do you want me to help you with the lamp now?" He asked.

"No, we'll get it later. Because I have some exciting news to share." Beaming she announced, "I got a call on my cell when I was driving home. Professor Samuels is ready to schedule my final dissertation review. He said my last submission was excellent."

"First the Rodgers conviction and now this. The day keeps getting better." Taking her hands in his, he said, "Soon we'll have two doctors in the house. When will Samuels see you?"

"Well…he said..." In her professor's nasally voice, she quoted, "_my schedule is booked for the next two months but if you could do me a favor and get Gil Grissom to come out with you and give a lecture... gratis of course… then I could probably re-prioritize and work you in then_."

Confident she knew he would do anything for her and could have guaranteed his participation on the spot, Grissom inquired. "What did you tell him?"

Slowly moving her hands up Grissom's chest she spoke in a sexy whisper. "I assured him it wouldn't be a problem." Running a finger over Grissom's lips she explained, "I said all I have to do put on the right lingerie and give Gil Grissom a little quality time in the bedroom and he'll do whatever I want."

Visualizing the scenario he pulled her closer. "That's the true answer; now tell me your actual answer."

Lightening her tone she replied. "I said I would try my best but I would probably have much better luck if I could offer box seats to the San Francisco Opera when I ask. To which he replied, _consider it done_."

Already thrilled with her original answer, Grissom was ecstatic over the bonus. "Two of the _many _reasons I love you, Sara…always thinking on your feet and always thinking of me." Tightly wrapping his arms around her, he showed his deep appreciation with a kiss.

When they parted she grinned. "So…I take it you'll do the lecture if I ask?"

"Well…" Eyeing her seductively he teased, "I am a busy man with a very full schedule so when you officially ask you might want to hedge your bet by offering the opera tickets _while_ wearing lingerie and giving me a little quality time."

More than up for a little game, she taunted him. "Well I'll do _anything_ to increase my odds of pinning you down…on a date for the lecture."

Her uninhibited declaration tantalized him. "And the day gets better still."

Moving behind him she seductively whispered, "Lamps and end tables aren't the only thing I've purchased this week. You probably would have written my dissertation for me if I asked when I was wearing what I'm about to put on. Do the words, La Perla Black Label mean anything to you?"

"They mean my day is going to get better still."

* * *

Standing in front of the Bellagio fountain, Nick asked Carrie, "So what do you want to do first? Want to see the sights? Drop some cash trying to beat the house? You name it. I'll take you there." 

While waiting for her reply he soaked in her appearance, which was dramatically different than earlier. Instead of a stuffy suit, she was wearing a pair of perfectly fitted distressed jeans, a lacy red tank and kicky snakeskin mules. Her wavy brown hair was whimsically piled on top of her head with a rhinestone comb, framing her gorgeous face and accenting her deep brown eyes. "You look completely different than you did at the courthouse."

"You mean out of my monkey suit?" Smiling, she said, "It's a courtroom habit. But the trial trauma is over and I'm ready to have some fun. I want the full tourist experience."

"Which one? We don't have to stay in Vegas." Grinning, he said, "How about we tour Venice and then go to Paris for dinner?"

"When I was in college I always wanted to go to Europe and have an adventure but was always too busy studying or working." She chuckled. "Story of my life actually…good intentions and then a case comes up and before I know it a year has passed."

"Well, it's never too late to start having some fun, Carrie. I have friends who just started this year and it's working out real well for them." Taking her by the arm, he led her down the sidewalk. "Now when we get to Italy you'll want to stay close to me because you know the guys in Italy have a reputation for being a little too frisky."

"So you'll protect me." Her smile grew.

Turning on his good boy drawl, he teased, "Ma'am I'm from Texas you can count on it."

"Good to know."

* * *

Sitting in her home office typing an email reply to Professor Samuels confirming Grissom's willingness to lecture at Berkeley, Sara heard Grissom's cell phone ring in his office. 

Cinching her pink Victoria's Secret cashmere robe tighter, she padded across the hall into his office and grabbed the phone off his desk.

When she saw it was Catherine calling, she flipped open the phone. "Hey Catherine."

"I hope I didn't catch you at a really good time. I also hope you wouldn't answer the phone if you were having a really good time."

Sara chuckled. "He's sleeping."

"Then you've already had a good time! Let me guess you're fresh out of a bubble bath, kicking back in luxurious cashmere robe."

Pulling the phone from her ear she took a moment to stare at it before returning it. "It's creepy how you know this stuff."

"It's not rocket science, Sara. As much as the two of you would like to believe you're eccentric you're quite normal…except for the bugs. Plus, I was there when he bought the robe. Five hundred bucks in case you were wondering why it's so damn comfy."

Sara chuckled while heading back to her office with the phone. "It is comfy."

"Listen to you gushing! How do two people go from never having a serious relationship to having the perfect one together? Do you _ever_ disagree? You have to, Warrick and I do all the time."

Returning to her desk chair she replied, "Yes, but we're very good at compromising." She heard Catherine roll her eyes through the phone.

"Oh come on, make me feel better. Don't you ever come home from work on a day you're PMSing, find his boxers on the floor or the toilet seat up and snap?"

"That's trivial stuff." She shrugged. "We don't argue about it. We make it a point not to argue at all."

"You're telling me you've _never _had an argument? I'm not sure that's healthy."

Sara fell silent.

"Sara?"

"I'm still here."

"Sorry…did I hit a nerve?"

Sitting back in her chair Sara sobered slightly. "Once…about a month ago. It was…"

"Scary, huh? One minute you're humming along and then something happens to set one or both of you off. You say things, he says things and for a while you think this is it…it was perfect but now it's over and life will never be the same. It's normal, Sara. I know you're a perfectionist but no relationship is perfect."

"I hated every minute of it." Sighing she closed her eyes. "Felt like my world was falling apart."

"But you're okay now, right?"

Her smile returned. "Don't worry. Everything is fine now. Better than ever actually."

"Great. That's a relief. Hey, I need to know what to do with the Diamante case tonight so have Grissom call me on my cell when he gets his strength back."

Laughing she replied, "It will probably be a few hours."

"I figured as much. Bye."

"Bye."

Tossing the cell phone on her desk, she decided that her email could wait.

After leaving her office, she went straight to the bedroom where she was happy to find Grissom still asleep. Slipping into bed she snuggled next to him, laying her head on the same down pillow. Closing her eyes she savored the simplicity of the tranquil moment before joining him in peaceful slumber.

Tranquility is always something to cherish. Because as Grissom and Sara found out last month, you never know when it will be disrupted by someone looking to exercise a little dominion…

_Grissom and Sara were investigating a 419 at The Enchanted Garden, a VIP hangout for the rich and twisted. The vic, a twenty-one year old girl, was found strangled on the premises, in the room designated as The Pleasure Pit. _

_While Nick continued processing the room where the girl was found, Grissom and Sara went to the lounge where the confined guests, about thirty of them, were mingling about the large hedonistically decorated room while being detained. _

_Grissom put down his kit and announced, "I'm Gil Grissom and this is Sara Sidle, we're with the crime lab. We have a few questions to ask each of you and would also like to obtain a DNA sample to help clear you, it is a simple procedure. We'll take a swab from the inside of your cheek. So if you would take turns and move this along we'll get you out of here as soon as possible. Thank you." _

_Turning to Sara he instructed. "You pull the supplies while I organize the masses. I'll swab, you write. We'll be done in no time." _

"_Sounds good." Bending down she opened her kit to prepare. _

_When Grissom turned back to face the crowd, much to his dismay, he came face to face with a very uncomfortable memory. And with Sara two feet away, it couldn't have happened at a worse time. _

"_Mr. Grissom." Lady Heather smiled. "You've changed since we last saw each other. The beard is new and there is something else…" She studied him intensely. "Something has changed in your personal life." _

_Looking up over her shoulder, Sara saw a provocative woman dripping in leather. From her choker necklace, to her barely there push-up corset and obscenely short skirt, right down to her stiletto knee-high boots the woman oozed sadomasochism. Having heard her call Grissom by name in an intimate tone, she couldn't fathom how they knew each other and she didn't want to try. _

"_Lady Heather," Grissom stoically replied, while nervously glancing in Sara's direction. "Who is running your dominion if you're here?" Flustered he tried to think of a good way to manage the potentially awkward situation without it appearing to Sara that he was handling something. _

_Sara relaxed. It was Lady Heather who ran the domination operation. They had processed two cases there over the years, surprisingly not more since it was rampant with perverts and freaks paying for repugnant fantasies. Her curious mind satisfied, Sara continued prepping. _

_Pleased to have the enigmatic man once again at her disposal, Lady Heather wistfully replied. "Mr. Grissom, I have a busy career but even I need a chance to get out and play games once in while." Her voice turned sultry. "Surely you understand since you're a busy man, guilty of the same indulgence." _

_Grissom politely said, "Yes, I am very busy here so if you wouldn't mind rejoining the group, we'll get to you as soon as possible." The situation was quickly morphing from awkward to awful and he felt powerless. _

"_Are you attempting to control me? I'm not sure I like it and yet I find it intriguing considering our history." Raking her eyes over him, she purred. "I always did enjoy your company. Maybe enough time has passed for me to forgive your transgression. That is if you would be willing to show the appropriate level of remorse." Inching closer she was determined to entice him. "Perhaps we could discuss it over tea…our favorite ritual." _

_Sara's heart leapt into her throat as she processed the woman's words. Certain she must be misinterpreting the situation; she stood up clutching a swab ready to get on with the task at hand. However, one look at the unease dominating Grissom's face, she knew her interpretation, no matter how dark and disturbing, was dead on. _

_Never did Grissom consider Sara and Lady Heather's paths crossing and now that they were he froze. _

_Lady Heather, always an expert at reading people, figured out the situation in seconds. "Ah…I think I know what has changed in your life, Mr. Grissom." Pausing she read Sara's name off her jacket. "Ms. Sidle? She is the change, is she not?" _

_Grissom attempted one more dismissal. "Lady Heather...I think it would be best if you waited with the others." _

_It was then that Lady Heather realized Grissom was trying to protect Ms. Sidle from the truth. Protection...something he never considered offering in the interrogation room years ago when she needed it from him. __Studying the woman at Grissom's side, Lady Heather masked her jealousy with intense control. "You didn't answer me. Is Ms. Sidle your cup of tea now?" _

_Sara forced a business tone while her mind frantically churned along with her stomach. "We have a job to do here so if you wouldn't mind...." _

"_That's right." Lady Heather smiled. "You need a DNA swab." Folding her arms across her chest she postured. "I want Mr. Grissom to do it." _

"_No." Sara insisted. "It's my job."_

"_Ms. Sidle, you work for Mr. Grissom do you not?" She knew the answer was yes from the looks they exchanged. "I think we should ask him since he has authority over you." With a wicked stare she informed Sara, "And because you pushed back, Ms. Sidle, now I will demand more." Refocusing on the dumbfounded man in front of her she stated her terms. "Mr. Grissom, I will only provide my sample if you take it…while Ms. Sidle watches." _

_Standing side by side, Grissom and Sara didn't move a muscle. _

_Lady Heather's face brimmed with pleasure. "What's it going to be Mr. Grissom? You need my sample to be thorough at your job. So what's your choice? Do you submit to the will of your subordinate and fail at your job or do you submit to my will and get what you are required to obtain? Each choice has a price." _

_When Grissom didn't immediately answer, Sara chose for him. Looming over the offensive woman, she declared, "We're too busy for games. He'll take it. I'll watch. You'll be on your way." _

"_And now he no longer has the power." Lady Heather grinned with approval. "Ms. Sidle, I'm impressed with you."_

"_Thanks. Too bad I can't say the same about you." Sara snipped as she slapped the swab in Grissom's hand. "Take it." Crossing her arms over her chest she stepped back determined to fulfill her end of the bargain without emoting. "I'm watching." _

_Without looking at Sara, Grissom opened the swab container. _

"_This feels vaguely familiar." Lady Heather mused before opening her mouth wide. _

_Sara winced and her gaze hit the floor along with the pit of her stomach. _

_Glancing forward out of the corner of his eye, Grissom obtained the swab as quickly as possible and sealed the tube. _

_Her voice dripping with concern she inquired, "I forgot to ask…how is your hearing Mr. Grissom? It must have improved because you didn't read Ms. Sidle's lips and yet you knew what she said." _

_Aghast at the woman's intimate knowledge, Sara announced, "I'm checking on Nick." Then bolted from the room._

_Lady Heather, pleased with herself, leaned in and whispered, "Time has passed but you've learned nothing, Mr. Grissom." _

"_Oh, I've learned plenty." He snapped. "In these past five minutes…I learned even more." _

_When Sara got to the room, she walked over to Nick. "You need to go out to the lounge and work with Grissom. I'll take over here." _

_In the middle of collecting fibers, Nick groaned, "Oh come on, I'm half way done and…" _

"_Just do it, Nick!" She shouted. _

"_Dang." He stood up and noted an unfamiliar look on her face. "What's got you so ticked off? If I barked at you like that…" _

"_I'm…I didn't mean to yell." Her head swirling with doubts and fears her voice trembled. "You know on second thought. I…I need to go. Something…something's not agreeing with me and I…" _

"_Told you not to eat the bean dip in the break room." Nick bent down and started collecting fibers again. _

"_Yeah..." Clutching her head, she hurried through the building while trying to ignore the repulsive décor and abhorrent paraphernalia which until moments ago seemed to have no connection to her life. _

_Five minutes later, after ensuring an officer had escorted Lady Heather to her car, Grissom came searching for Sara. "Where's Sara? She said she was checking in with you." _

"_She did." Nick kept collecting fibers without turning around. "Bit my head off telling me to switch places with her and then she said she felt sick and had to go. It may have been that bean dip she ate earlier because she looked a little green. Then again she always gets a little wigged out in these deviant places. Makes her more squeamish that decomp. Not that I blame her. I hate this freaky shit too." Finally he looked up. "Didn't she stop and tell you she was leaving?" _

"_No." Grissom grabbed his cell phone. "I can't leave you at this scene alone, there's too much to do. I'm calling Catherine and Warrick to fill in so I can check on Sara." _

_An hour later, Grissom rushed through his front door. Having seen Sara's car in the driveway he knew she was home. "Sara?" From room to room he looked for her until he finally saw her standing in the darkened bedroom, peering out the window. "There you are." He rushed over and saw the fear in her eyes. "Sara…I know what you must be thinking…" _

"_Do you?" She swallowed hard. "Good. Because I don't know what to make of the thoughts in my head so maybe you can help me." She was too confused to focus on one emotion so fear, anger and despair took turns shooting through her. _

"_There is nothing for you to be concerned about." _

"_Really?" She locked her eyes on his. "Then why do I have so many questions? Questions like… When? Where? **Why? How often?**" _

"_Sara…" He reached out to her but she recoiled. "Please…you have nothing to worry about." _

_After gulping a fresh batch of air she snapped, "If I don't then why aren't you answering any of my questions. Why did you look the way you did when she was talking to you? Why was she hell bent on humiliating me?" Her voice cracked. "I'm scared."_

_His heart pounded in his chest. "You want the truth."  
_

"_Do I?" She wasn't sure she could handle it. "How bad will it be?"_

_The repulsion in her eyes killed him and he had to turn away to provide the answer. "It was after the second case. At her place. Years ago. One time." _

_Her voice faltered. "I never thought for a moment it was a recent thing." _

"_Of course not, Sara." Facing her he made an impassioned plea. "I would never…**ever**…do anything to hurt you. You have to know that." _

_In an empty voice she said, "My reaction has nothing to do with jealousy. I remember her place." Sara's stomach twisted into a tighter knot. "It's vile." Trembling she let her true concern show. "Is that what you really enjoy? Is our life in this house…in this room…in **our bed**… nothing but a lie? My god, I must be such a bore if she's your…what did she say? If she's your cup of tea. The idea of you doing **any** of the things I saw happening in her place when we processed those cases…I can't…" _

"_It wasn't like that, Sara!" _

"_I don't want to know what it was like!" She felt her sour stomach rising. "I thought I knew you! Obviously not because look what you've been hiding from me." _

_Grabbing her hands, he fought to make her understand. "You are the **only** person who knows me, Sara. The only one who ever has even known me and the only one who ever will."_

"_I don't know if I believe you. I saw the way she was looking at you…she appeared to know you quite well. She knew about your hearing." Hurt flashed in her eyes. "You told her **years** ago but you didn't tell me until **four months** ago! What else does she know about you that I don't?!" _

"_I didn't tell her! She guessed! And you know why I didn't tell you." Frustration mounting he couldn't figure out how to allay her darkest fears. "How can I make this better, Sara?" _

_Desperate, she nervously asked, "You didn't answer why. Maybe it will help me understand…not that I'm sure I can." _

_After taking a deep breath he explained. "I was hurting. I was still reeling from finding out about Hank…" _

"_Hank?" Sara yanked her hands out of his. "I went to the **movies **with Hank so you went to her to play out some **sick** fantasy? What role were you playing? You were angry at me over Hank so were you the aggressor…was she supposed to be me?! This is so…" _

"_No!" Gripping her shoulders, he pleaded, "Please let me finish." _

_She swallowed the lump in her throat to reply. "Fine. I'm listening." _

"_Like I said before, it wasn't what you think." He steadied himself. "She was looking for the deviation, **not me**. She wanted something mundane instead of the extreme she dealt with daily. A little civility to counteract the debauchery." _

_Softening his tone, he said, "The truth is…I was vulnerable. You were with Hank… I was losing my hearing. I was lost. Out of balance. It felt good to be desired when the last thing I felt was desirable. In that moment…under those circumstances I made a choice." Searching her eyes for understanding he asked, "Have you ever felt that way, Sara? Before we were together, when things weren't making sense for us? Can you understand?"_

_She knew the feeling he described. She knew it well. It was the same feeling that led her to reckless choices in college. It was the same feeling that almost let her fall into bed with Hank on several occasions. It was the same feeling she had while hiking in Tahoe with Mike right before he showed his true colors. Grissom's honesty was undeniable. "Yes. I understand the feeling. I understand why you…"_

_The unexpected loop of the roller coaster had turned them upside down before they even knew what happened and now it was time to catch their breath, realize the ride wasn't over and regain their momentum. _

_Moments later, Sara did what she knew how to do better than anyone…she showed a little empathy. Slipping her arms around Grissom she pulled him close. "Neither of us ever needs to feel that way again." _

"_That's right." Returning the embrace, he closed his eyes, grateful for her trust. "I love you, Sara." _

"_I love you, too." _

_In the darkness, they clung to each other for balance. _

_Sara whispered, "I guess that was our first fight. We knew it had to happen eventually. Now it's out of the way." _

"_I hated every minute of it." _

"_Me too." _

_He sighed with relief. "But we worked through it." _

"_We did." _

"_But let's not have another one any time soon." _

"_I'd prefer never." _

"_That's fine by me." _

* * *

In the stands of the softball field, Catherine and Warrick were sweating out the eighth inning. 

"I can't believe she's pitching a no-hitter on her first try." Catherine brimmed with excitement while shielding her eyes.

"Baby, it's bad luck saying it out loud before the end." He took her hand. "But what did you expect after all that practice."

"No kidding! You guys have been in the yard practicing every day for two weeks."

Breaking into a huge grin she eased back against Warrick's shoulders. Always a fan of irony, Catherine loved the relationship between Warrick and Lindsay. Warrick Brown, a boy who never knew his father and was raised by his grandma…a teen who was once told by an ignorant school counselor that he would end up a statistic, another young black male probably fathering a child out of wedlock and walking out the door…instead of being a statistic, he ended up being the best father-figure Lindsay ever knew.

"Yes!" Catherine jumped as Lindsay whipped the last strike over the plate.

Warrick eased into a smile. "Okay one more inning. You gonna make it?"

"Did you bring any booze?" She joked.

"We're on the clock in four hours."

"Then just hold me tighter."

"Never a problem." He pulled her closer while ignoring the stares of several uptight parents around them.

"I've been thinking." Catherine announced.

"Uh oh."

She grinned. "Listening to Sara talk about the house has made me want to make a few changes around mine. Bring in something to brighten the place up."

"Like what?"

While talking they continued to stare ahead at the field since Lindsay was at bat.

"Like you. Think you could handle me every day?"

"365 out of 365." He smoothly replied while squeezing her tighter.

"Good." Her grin widened. "Now I only have to sweat out the next inning, not my future."

* * *

Grissom was sitting in his home office typing up notes for his upcoming Berkeley lecture when he heard his cell phone ringing in Sara's office. 

Cinching his robe tighter he crossed the hall. Upon entering Sara's office he grabbed his phone off her desk. "Grissom." He saw it was Brass calling.

"Sorry to disturb you on your day off."

"It's fine." He crossed the hall to return to his office. "I was typing up notes."

"Where's Sara?"

"Sleeping." Smiling he took a seat in his chair.

"Good. Now I'll have your undivided attention."

"What's up?"

"I have a problem and I want you to help me with it."

Leaning back in his chair Grissom eagerly replied, "What can I do to help?"

"It may be upsetting for you to hear this but…I'm your boss now so you'll listen. I'm also your friend so you can trust me that my intentions are good for all parties concerned."

Grissom inhaled sharply. "You certainly have my attention. Go ahead."


	28. Epilogue Part 3 of 5

**EPILOGUE – Part 3 of 5**

**April 22 - 9:00 p.m.**

Standing in the doorway of their bedroom, Grissom watched Sara sleeping peacefully. He was happy to know she was finally catching up on the sleep she had lost over the Rodgers trial.

Deciding he missed the scent of her perfume, an indulgence only worn on non-work days, he slipped into bed to spoon her.

His arms wrapped around her, he appreciated the warmth of her body, the softness of her robe and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. All of which lulled him further into a sense of security about their relationship, which was growing stronger all the time.

In the safety of this room, which Sara had decorated in soothing tones and sensual fabrics, they always shared their most intimate moments…their most revealing conversations. It was their sanctuary. It was also where they overcame their first relationship challenge…

_In the middle of their heated discussion about Lady Heather, Grissom would have found it unfathomably that the awkward incident would end up enhancing his spiritual and physical connection with Sara, but as he often learned on the job…sometimes the oddest path leads to the truth._

_Standing in the darkness, having survived their first fight they started discussing the physical boundaries of a healthy relationship. _

_Sara explained that as a child watching her parents blend passion and pain on a daily basis she was damaged from the mental trauma. The fact that her parents' passion one day escalated into the ultimate act of violence left her terrified, wondering what all people were capable of in the heat of the moment. _

_Places, like Lady Heather's were especially confusing. A place where pain and sexuality mixed, sometimes to the point of bordering on physical endangerment; it horrified her. When they worked cases in those types of places, the sights and the sounds, brought back painful childhood memories and stirred her darkest fears. _

_Holding her tight Grissom assured her that violence would never be a part of their relationship in **any** aspect and the only activities they would ever explore would be consensual, occurring safely within the boundaries of monogamy._

_In the honesty of the moment, he delicately suggested they work through Sara's issues and in doing so, enhance their intimacy. _

_Once the communication was flowing and her fears allayed, over the weeks, they were finally able to openly express themselves. _

Fondly recalling the passion they had shared hours earlier, Grissom knew they definitely bridged the last of any remaining insecurities.

Moments later he saw her eyes flicker open.

"What time is it?" She inquired in a dreamy tone.

"A little after nine."

"We're going to be late."

Smoothing her hair, he whispered, "But it's your night off so you can stay in bed."

"Oh that's right." A smile unfurled over her lips as she turned to face him. "Mmm…how are you? Was it…"

"Fantastic." He brushed a kiss over her lips. "And how do you feel?"

Her eyes sparkling, she said, "Awesome."

"That's great to hear."

Their buzz was cut short by the sound of Sara's stomach grumbling.

Laughing she informed him, "I didn't eat anything after our outrageously exhausting romp and now I'm too weak to make it to the kitchen."

"Stay right here and I'll bring you something." He replied before stealing one more kiss.

**

* * *

**

Walking side by side through the streets of Paris, Nick continued to sell Carrie on the virtues of living in Sin City.

"If you ever want to change careers, Nick, you should seriously consider working for the Visitor's Bureau." She teased, "I think you've managed to give me two hundred reasons why I should relocate. Are you always this enthusiastic about the city?"

"I usually stop after ten reasons." He broke into a smile as radiant as the Eiffel Tower looming over him. "But I'm feeling especially motivated tonight. Hope it's working for you, Carrie."

Stopping in front of the tower she sighed, "Well, if I leave here tomorrow and never return to this fair city again..." Dramatically she batted her eyes at Nick. "We'll always have Paris!"

She cracked up and Nick immediately joined in the laughter.

"Damn. Am I trying _that_ hard?" Nick said as he struggled to recover. "I used to be _much _smoother."

"I probably wouldn't have liked you back then." Her laughter quelling she caught her breath.

"Ah…it's my desperation attracting you."

"Did I say I was attracted to you?"

"Are you?"

"I am now that I know you can laugh at yourself." Grinning she started down the cobblestone path again.

"So desperation and humiliation are the qualities you look for in a man."

"There are a few others."

"Like what?"

"I can't tell you because if I told you then you would _try _to show them to me."

"So I'll keep talking and hope they ooze out of me."

"I certainly hope they do." She replied before winking at him.

"So…" Nick moved closer. "Have you checked out job prospects?"

"I have several offers on the table actually but I'm most interested in working with the Prosecutor's office here. Unfortunately Vegas has a lot of child abuse cases. I know I would be busy. "

"Yeah…well. The city has it's virtues but they're outnumbered by the vices I suppose." Turning serious, he asked, "How did you pick your career? It has to be tough and you're…and I'm not saying this as a come-on, you're a really fun person. What made you pick such a heavy job?"

In a fearless voice she replied, "When I was eight, I was molested by my swimming coach. He got away with it because I didn't have the knowledge or the power to do anything about it when it happened to me. Then I grew up and found a way to take my power back. Now I help kids who find themselves in similar situations."

"Whoa." Nick stood in awe of Carrie. "You just flung that right out there."

Standing in front of him she confidently said, "Absolutely. I have nothing to be ashamed of because I was the victim. That's the number one reason so much of this stuff goes on for so long. The kids hide it because they feel ashamed when it's never their fault."

Sensing he was concerned she smiled warmly. "That was twenty three years ago and I'm fine now. You can't deal with something if it's locked away so that's why it's important to be open. People say that's why I'm so effective at my job. I can empathize and encourage kids, showing them through example that they can persevere. If I hid my story, they would hide theirs and the cycle would continue."

Nick remained silent as he contemplated her points.

Sighing she smiled, "Yep…I'm climbing up on my soapbox right here on the streets of Paris. You can take the girl out of her stuffy suit but she's still an advocate looking for an ear to educate. That's me, from fun to preacher in five minutes flat." She chuckled. "This is why I don't get a lot of second dates. See…I laugh at myself too."

Finding his voice, Nick asked, "Would you like to go out again tomorrow?"

"Really?" Then she sadly announced. "I'd love to but I have a seven p.m. flight."

"Then how about an early dinner and a ride to the airport?"

"I'd like that."

"Good."

They started walking down the street again.

"So enough about me, let's talk about you. You said you were a cop first and now you're a CSI. So you enjoy putting away the bad guys too. What made you choose your career?"

Once again Nick stopped walking. "I…"

Turning, Carrie looked up at him.

After finding courage in her eyes and from her earlier message, he admitted the truth. "Same reason as you. I was nine. She was a babysitter. Only two other people know, you met them today. Catherine, I told her a few years back and Sara, I told her a few months ago when she told me about her past. That's why she and I started the backpack program to help kids. This whole issue…it's not something I can talk about but since you were so candid I thought..."

Reaching out she took his hand in hers. "If you ever do want to talk, you know who you can call." Gently she tugged him, urging him with a smile to keep walking and talking.

Holding her hand, he asked, "Do you think something like that always impacts the way you live your life?"

"Yes but it doesn't have to be a negative impact. It's how you look at it."

In an upbeat voice she said, "You chose your job because of what happened to you. How many bad people have you put away because of the job you do? And in return, how many good people are safe because you put those people away? If that one horrible incident didn't happen to you, you might have grown up and become a car salesman instead of a cop or a CSI. Then a hundred creeps, including Mike Rodgers, might be walking the streets today because you weren't there to nab them. Nothing bad should ever happen to a kid but if it does…we are what we are today because of what happened in the past."

Now she stopped walking. Looking over at Nick she smiled. "Like I said…it's how you look at it.

"I believe you're right about that."

"I tell people, you take the good with the bad. You can't dwell on the past, you have to deal with your issues and move forward. Sometimes you can do it alone, sometimes you need therapy and sometimes it takes the security of another person propping you up to help you through. Sometimes it's a combination. It's just a matter of finding the right way for you."

"Carrie…" For the first time in his life, Nick Stokes found himself flustered by a woman. "I…you know…do you…do you have to make that flight tomorrow?"

"Well…the sooner I go back, the sooner I can pack." She broke into a wide, open smile.

Squeezing her hand, he made an alternative suggestion. "How about catching the red eye?"

"Now that was smooth."

Covering his face he said, "Uh oh…you said you didn't like smooth operators."

"Yeah but it was also an honest thing to say."

"Another good quality?"

"Yep and you're oozing it tonight."

Laughing together they left Paris behind and moved in a new direction.

* * *

"I got the mail." Grissom announced as he walked into the bedroom. "And you got a package." He held up a shoebox-sized box. 

"I don't remember ordering anything."

"Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yep." Sitting up in bed propped by a pile of satiny pillows, Sara set her drink down and asked, "What's in the package?"

"I don't know. I didn't open it"

Grabbing the remote, she shut off the TV.

Standing next to the bed, he grumbled, "Were you going to watch Bridget Jones _again_?"

"Don't make fun of me. I love it." The movie reminded her of her own 'Darcy moment' with Grissom and after such a wonderful day together she was in the mood for it.

Grissom rolled his eyes as he walked across the room to open a window. "That movie is totally unrealistic. How could Darcy be such an astute barrister but be such an inarticulate ass with the girl."

"You are kidding me, right?"

"No." He paused to reflect before asking, "Why?"

"Nevermind." Laughing, she teased, "You have bugs for friends, I watch movies repetitively, do you really want to debate who the bigger nut job is?"

Laughing with her he changed the subject. "How about some music? Opera lite?" It was a collection of songs burned on a CD representing their middle ground…not too heavy for her but enough operatic quality for him to enjoy.

"Excellent choice." Propping another bunch of pillows she made a nest for them to share.

"Didn't you order a framed butterfly?" He inspected the package as he walked over to the stereo.

"Yeah, but I didn't think it would get here so soon because they said it was on backorder."

"Sometimes they don't update the website." He programmed the music. "They probably had it in stock."

"Did you call Catherine about the Diamante case?"

"Yes. I told her everything she needed to know."

"Did Lindsay's team win?"

"They won and Lindsay pitched a no hitter. Warrick is a very proud pseudo-papa." Sitting in bed beside her he chuckled. "Catherine also told me and I quote, 'Soon Warrick and I are going to be living in sin like you and Sara.'."

"When are they going to catch on that we've had a paperless union for a while now?" She smiled. "Let not the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken."

"What a day!" He grinned wildly. "A Shakespeare quote, you in that outrageous lingerie earlier, mind-blowing sex, two tickets to the opera, and one great victory for forensic science..."

"All that's missing is a partridge in a pear tree."

"That's what I'm serving for brunch tomorrow." Showering her neck with kisses, he teased, "But don't worry it's a tofu partridge."

The joke and the feathery kisses made her giggle. "You know…I've heard married people rarely have mind-blowing sex. It's the first thing to go."

"A good reason for bucking convention, maybe all people should be forbidden to marry by the County." Slipping the robe off her shoulder, he planted a kiss. "I love this robe _on_ you…then again…off is nice too. Too bad I got dressed earlier." He tugged the pink cashmere a little further. "But maybe you could help me remedy the situation."

"Catherine told me this robe cost $500." His kiss made her purr her next comment. "Please tell me you know I don't need expensive gifts like this all the time."

"You know sometimes Catherine isn't very perceptive." He rolled his eyes. "The softest part of the robe is the outside and isn't that the part I get to enjoy? Like when I woke up earlier and found you wearing it laying next to me in bed...it's all about me so please don't worry."

"I see. And the house?"

"Totally selfish…I get to have you in it with me and do I really have to cite why that's a _good _thing after our quality time this afternoon? Yeah see…I'm one selfish bastard. I don't why you put up with me."

"Me either." She teased. "Maybe because you cook and bring me food in bed?"

"That must be it." With a cocky grin plastered on his face, he said, "Why don't you open your package now?" After returning her robe to her shoulder, he handed her the box, and pulled her in his arms. "Curiosity is getting the better of me."

"Now I'm certain we _are _married because you just stopped fooling around when you remembered there is an insect in this box." She continued to tease him while ripping open the brown shipping paper. "Some wives are football widows, I'm an insect widow."

"Just as long as you're not a black widow spider, honey." Taking the paper out of her hands he helped her take the lid off the box.

Anchored inside the box was a Tiffany-blue ring box. Sara shook her head realizing she had fallen for a ruse. "It's not a butterfly."

"Yeah…I knew that."

Fixing her gaze on him, she sweetly said, "Another selfish indulgence for you?"

"Absolutely." Reaching over he took the ring box and tossed the cardboard box aside. "But I certainly hope you'll enjoy it too." Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of it before saying, "Sara, if you were a bigger opera fan you might know what the Italian word for diamond is."

Suddenly getting the picture she sweetly replied, "Let me guess…diamante?" An anticipatory grin blanketed her face.

Holding up the box, he explained. "This is the diamante _case_. I told Catherine that if I was planning on cracking open the case tonight she couldn't disturb me unless all hell broke loose. That's what she called to confirm."

Gushing with excitement Sara blurted, "Now curiosity is getting the best of me!"

"Then let's crack the case."

When he pried open the box, Sara's jaw dropped. "It's gorgeous." Her eyes raced between the dazzling ring and his loving stare. The Tiffany bubble ring, a lattice work of platinum imbedded with two dozen petite round diamonds, took her breath away.

With pride he told her, "I picked it myself." Plucking the ring from its cushion he spoke softly. "The diamonds are crafted to look like bubbles in a champagne glass. Champagne is served in celebration and that's what I wanted to do…celebrate our union…our marriage of true minds like Shakespeare and more recently, you, put it."

"Yes." She whispered while staring into his eyes.

Holding the ring in one hand, and her left hand in his other, he spoke from the heart. "Sara, I've told you so many things over these past seven months but there's one affirmation I've yet to verbalize although you know I've felt it for a while. Something very hard for me, something I've never said before in my life." As he slipped the ring on her finger he said, "I trust you. I trust in your love. I trust we will always be together no matter what life throws at us."

Knowing the profound nature of his sentiment, her eyes welled and her heart soared.

The ring secured on her finger, Grissom moved his hand to her cheek, just in time to feel her first tear of joy cascade down. "When we do our jobs we're often challenged by confusing questions that result from us trying to comprehend the unexplainable or the unthinkable. I am eternally grateful to have you in my life. You are the one thing that makes sense when everything else doesn't. Your love is something I never have to question and I will always cherish it above all else."

"I…" She took a moment to glance at the ring on her finger and then refocused on his eyes. "I'm overwhelmed. By your words. By my reaction. By your gift…and I'm not only talking about the ring. "

In celebration of their love they shared a slow, drugging kiss.

When they finally parted, Sara tenderly said, "I've been thinking about a quote you once told me."

"Which one?" After all there were so many.

"Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends in a teardrop." She could tell he thought it was an odd quote to be pondering during this moment which represented a beautiful beginning not a heartbreaking end. "I think anonymous had it right after all." She announced with conviction.

"I'm afraid you'll need to explain why." With a nervous laugh, he added, "And do it quickly before I have a heart attack."

Reaching out she lovingly stroked his cheek. "Our love did start with a smile and for a long time that's all we exchanged. Then we shared our first kiss and with every kiss since, our love has grown…sometimes in barely perceptible increments and sometimes, like during the kiss we shared a moment ago, it grows exponentially." Her voice cracked. "And there will be an end. We know it's inevitable. But it will be a _natural_ end and the teardrop, a tear of _joy_ cried by…you or me…while looking back and recalling the beautiful moments we shared…moments like this one…days like today."

"Now it's my turn to be overwhelmed." Cupping her face in his hands, his voice was heavy with emotion. "I've never heard or read more beautiful words than the ones you just spoke."

As they fell into a loving embrace, they continued to celebrate the strengthening of their union. Soon words were replaced with affection and music dominated the room. A Josh Grobin, Charlotte Church operatic duet flowed from the stereo, circulating around them and floating out the open window into the night…

* * *

Miles away from the peace of the Grissom-Sidle household, Catherine, Warrick, Nick and Greg were arriving in the field.

Rival gangs had opened fire and when the violence ended, two teenage boys and one girl were dead.

Catherine shivered as she stood over the girl's body thinking, she's only a couple of years older than Lindsay. Life is too precious.

"You okay?" Warrick asked.

"I can never be okay when I see something like this but it's my job and I'll get on with it." In charge for the night, Catherine gave the orders. "Nick and Warrick take the male vics and Greg you stay with me and we'll focus on the girl."

"Anything you say boss," Warrick replied, as he and Nick headed across the parking lot.

Nick teased, "You like calling her that don't ya? You guys carry these roles home with you or do switch it up on some sort of schedule?"

"I'd tell you but you're so hard up right now, Stokes, I don't think you can handle it." Warrick set his kit down. "Which reminds me…how was your date? What sights did you end up showing her? Did you break your chastity vow and end up showing her…"

"Hey!" Nick grinned. "You don't ever talk that way about the future Mrs. Stokes."

"Whoa." Warrick had never heard that line before. "That must have been one hell of a city tour, man."

"That it was." Nick opened his kit and snapped on a fresh set of gloves. "She's the one."

"You get a follicular root so you can check her DNA?" Warrick grabbed his camera.

"I'm in love with her mind and her soul, who cares about her DNA." Nick stood up with his camera."

"You are over the moon, Stokes." Laughing at his friend and himself, Warrick said, "What the hell is in the water in the break room that suddenly everyone is getting monogamous

"I've seen Greg drink the water and it's not having the same effect on him so I think it has to be something else."

The guys paused to look at each other.

Nick groaned. "You think?" He snapped a picture.

"I'm thinking that's it." Warrick took a photo of his vic.

At the same time they lowered their cameras and groaned, "We're old."

Across the parking lot, Catherine was showing Greg how to collect the shards of glass surrounding the girl. "It appears the bullet spray hit the store window while she was standing in front of it. Then this piece of glass." She pointed to a large fragment protruding from the girl's neck. "Sliced open her jugular."

Greg sighed. "So she was in the middle of a fierce gun battle but she doesn't get shot. Instead a piece of glass kills her."

"Yeah well…in chaotic situations the strangest things can occur. "Okay you start bagging the…

Catherine halted her words when she heard the screech of tires flying toward the crime scene.

The moments following were a blur of gunfire and screaming as everyone working the scene as well as the onlookers raced for cover.

When the gunfire subsided, one frantic scream was heard above the fray. "Code 444! Multiple personnel down!"


	29. Epilogue Part 4 of 5

**EPILOGUE **– **Part 4 of 5 **

**April 23rd 10 a.m. **

Standing at the kitchen island, Sara hummed a happy tune while chopping fruit for brunch.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" Grissom asked as he watched her work.

"It's fruit." She rolled her eyes. "How can I mess it up?"

"Well…" He didn't have the heart to tell her that kiwis were supposed to be sliced, not cubed.

"And remember, no one can know I'm doing the cooking."

"I know." He backed away smiling at the fact she called chopping fruit , putting muffins in a basket and baking pre-made frozen quiches _cooking_.

"You know tricking them is the only way I'll ever get them to eat something I make. Ever since the burrito incident they barely trust me to get take out."

_In January, motivated by some inexplicable domestic pang, Sara decided to cook something from scratch. After perusing the Internet for the perfect vegetarian recipe, she chose to make bean and cheese burritos. That same night, she cheerily carried the burritos into the break room for the team to enjoy. _

"_Hey, these look great, Sara." Nick grabbed the first one. "You swear Grissom didn't help you?" _

"_No." She beamed. "I followed the recipe and made them myself." _

"_I had absolutely nothing to do with this little domestic adventure." Grissom pulled a burrito off the pile. "I haven't even tasted one." _

_After watching Nick and Grissom survive the first few bites, Catherine, Warrick, Greg and Brass took the plunge. _

_An hour later, Grissom was calling in the swing shift to cover for them while they all went home with acute food poisoning. _

_Having the foresight to collect some of his spew, Grissom later determined the guilty party to be contaminated cheese, not Sara. However, the damage was done. Even though he cleared her name, everyone still subconsciously associated Sara's cooking with intense stomach cramps and projectile vomiting.  
_

"I promise I won't tell them you cooked." In silence he watched. Still blissful from last night, he couldn't get enough of her and with each passing moment he felt the bond stronger

Their vows, although only a 'marriage of true minds' had brought their spiritual union to a new level and the lack of legality, not only didn't bother them, they took comfort in it. Being the children of disastrous marriages, they hoped choosing a different path to long-term commitment would help achieve a different end result. They knew a church wedding hadn't helped Grissom's parents keep their vows and a legal document obtained at City Hall hadn't prevented Sara's parents from destroying each other. So maybe, a heartfelt promise made when society wasn't watching would somehow be stronger.

Without looking at him Sara said, "I know you're staring at me."

"You're right." Stepping behind her he slipped his arms around her waist. "I can't take my eyes off of you."

"Those aren't your eyes on me."

"We're supposed to have our hands on each other at all times." He kissed the nape of her neck. "It's our honeymoon remember, at least until we can find time to sneak off and have a real one."

Sighing she set down the knife. "The team is about to crash our honeymoon."

"Your idea. Not mine." Sweeping her hair off her neck he continued kissing her.

Enjoying the affection she closed her eyes. "I didn't know you were going to give me a ring and rock my world when I invited them." Everything about last night still had her buzzing…the secret plan to present the ring…the heartfelt vows they exchanged…the sensuous love they made.

"So now instead of spending our honeymoon alone, we're spending it with Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Brass and Greg."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Just how I always imagined it."

"You imagined it?" That got him to stop kissing her neck.

"I imagined a lot of things over the years." Turning she put her arms around his neck. "Unfortunately nothing has lived up to my imagination."

"Really?" His eyebrows stayed raised

"Everything has_ exceeded_ my wildest dreams."

"Very sappy."

"Well it's my honeymoon too and if you're entitled to stare I'm entitled to get sappy."

"Men are visual creatures."

"And women like to hear themselves talk."

"There are a few things men and women _mutually_ appreciate."

Their faces gravitated toward each other.

"Oh really." Grazing her lips over his she purred. "Like what?"

"Like this for example."

Five minutes later, the moment was broken by the ding of the oven timer signaling completion of the pre-heat phase.

Grissom, a little pre-heated himself, reluctantly released Sara from his arms. "Domestic bliss thwarted by domesticity."

After shutting the timer off, Sara glanced down at herself. "Speaking of domestic. I've only had a ring on my finger for twelve hours and I've got an apron around my neck while I'm standing in the kitchen barefoot."

"Before you know it, you'll be pregnant."

The role of domesticated wife was almost impossible for her to grasp but the image he just described sent her into full blown panic. "What did you just say?"

The shock consuming her face made him quickly clarify his statement. "Sara, it was part of the expression. I was completing the thought. I didn't mean…"

"Of course you didn't." A sunny smile popped back on her face and she busied herself unwrapping the quiches and humming.

Perplexed by the awkward feeling suddenly occupying their kitchen he tried to figure out what happened.

When minutes passed without a word and the silence in the kitchen was getting thicker than the cream Sara was pulling out from the fridge, he knew something was going on inside her head. It had been quite a while since they had one of these awkward mutual communication freezes and it reminded him of old times. But unlike old times, he knew how to get the ball rolling. "Honey…"

"Yes?" She answered sweetly while putting the cream on the counter.

"Do we need to talk about…"

"Do we?"

"I'm thinking we do or we would already be talking about something else."

"Okay go ahead."

For a minute nothing came out his mouth until finally a nervous chuckle tumbled forth. "This is ridiculous. We know what we're not talking about. Why can't I talk about it? Why can't you talk about this?"

With a twinge of vulnerability in her voice she began talking as she paced the room. "Maybe I can't talk about it because I just realized we've never talked about it when we should have talked about it. I mean we did talk about it but only in terms of _prevention _and that was what? A barely articulate ten second conversation six months ago…"

_The discussion of glass fractures behind them, Grissom and Sara, on the way to her bedroom, suddenly realized they had a new topic to discuss. _

"_Sara, what about…" _

"_I'm covered. But there's the issue of…" _

"_We're always testing our blood at the lab so…" _

"_We'd know if there was something to worry about." Shyly she admitted, "Besides it's been so long…"_

"_For me too." _

"_Then there's nothing to worry about." _

"_No." _

"_Good." _

"_Good." _

Wiping her hands on a dishrag, Sara rambled on. "Now you went and brought up the subject in a different context and it's out there and I don't know how I feel about it because I never thought about it until now. I mean in my lifetime I thought about it conceptually but that is _very_ different from hearing those words come out of _your _mouth, especially after last night when we…now I…I'm suddenly thinking about something I never thought about before. And I don't know how I feel about it at all." After catching her breath she probed further. "You said you were completing an expression…an automated response to a joke. That's all right? Like if I said, we go together like peas and…"

"Carrots." Crossing the room he took her hand. "I swear that's all it was."

"So you've never seriously considered…"

"No. I haven't." After a moment of staring into her eyes he said, "But now...after hearing _you _talk about it, I'm suddenly thinking about it."

"See! That's my point!" Shaking her head she started laughing. "This is why I shouldn't cook."

Taking her in his arms he smiled. "Not without wearing shoes anyway."

"So what does this mean? This thinking about something neither of us thought we'd ever think about."

Tenderly he explained, "I think it means we're off balance today because of last night. Those were powerful emotions we experienced. We've been tucked away in the house enjoying a fantasy while forgetting our reality."

Sara grinned. "Then we should be cured as soon as the team gets here and snaps us back to abnormality."

"I think we can count on it."

* * *

After parking their cars, Brass, Catherine, Warrick, Nick and Greg congregated on the front walk leading up to Grissom and Sara's house. 

Greg was the first to make an observation. "Grissom and Sara's house is huge. No wonder I'm making crap as a CSI 1, the county is paying Grissom a fortune."

Brass made the next observation. "We need to come up with another name for this domicile because 'Grissom and Sara's house' is a mouthful."

"The red hot brick house of burning love?" Greg replied.

"Yeah that's a lot easier," Nick rolled his eyes.

"Maybe an acronym?" Catherine suggested.

Warrick gave his thoughts on the matter. "Maybe we won't be able to come up with the right name until we see them in the house and get a feel for the place. Then it will just come to us."

Nodding, they all agreed with him.

"Okay." Catherine stepped in front of the group. "When they open the door, please remember I'm doing the talking. Because Grissom is going to flip out when he sees us." That said, she turned around, walked to the door and rang the bell.

A minute later, Grissom opened the front door and his jaw dropped. "What the hell happened to you?" In his doorway he saw Catherine with her arm in a sling and a contusion on her forehead, Greg's arms and face covered in lacerations, Nick's upper arm thickly bandaged, Warrick's hand wrapped and Brass smiling holding a large gift bag..

Catherine energetically said, "Morning boss. I hope you have a lot of food because we just finished shift and we're starving."

"Catherine!" Grissom grimaced. "Isn't there something you want to explain?"

"Oh! You mean about why we…?"

"Yes, that."

"Let us in and I'll tell you all about it. It's nothing really."

_When Catherine heard the squeal of car tires she turned from the store window to see what was going on. "Don't tell me it's going to be one of those ni…" _

"_Catherine!" Greg screamed when he saw her hit the ground. _

"_TAKE COVER!" An unidentified voice shouted. _

_Realizing they were completely unprotected from the crossfire, Greg blanketed Catherine's body with his while frantically checking for her pulse. _

_Although it seemed like hours, a minute later the chaos ended. _

"_Catherine…" Greg searched her body for blood. _

_From across the parking lot, Nick and Warrick came running. "Are you okay?" _

_When Warrick saw Catherine's lifelessly body he rushed to her side. "I need an EMT NOW!"_

"_She's got a pulse… and she's breathing!" Greg relayed while trying not to hyperventilate. "One minute she was talking…the next she hit the ground. There was no where… to take cover so I covered her…I…I don't see any blood." _

_Nick, too distraught to notice his arm was dripping with blood, knelt across from Warrick and began inspecting Catherine for bullet wounds. _

_Gently Warrick smoothed her hair with his one uninjured hand. "Come on, baby. What's going on?" She wasn't responding. "Where the hell is the EMT?!" _

"_On their way!" A voice echoed in the darkness. "We didn't have any on the scene."_

"_I found something." Nick pointed to a perforation in the upper right quadrant of Catherine's bullet proof vest. _

_Warrick unzipped the vest and in one horrifyingly breathless moment yanked it open to see if the shot had gone through._

_Nick, sensing that Warrick, needed a second opinion, confirmed, "It didn't go through. I bet it knocked the wind knocked out of her. She's going to be fine." _

_Nick's words finally allowed Warrick to breathe again. _

_Greg, the trauma catching up with him, went weak in the knees. "I think I need to…" _

_Nick caught him right as he fell. "I got ya buddy." _

_A second later, Catherine's eyelids fluttered._

"_She's coming to!" Warrick announced as he lightly tapped on her cheeks. "You're okay, baby. Open your eyes." _

"_Wh…" Bringing her hand to her head she moaned. "What…" _

"_We had gunfire at the scene and you took a slug in the vest." _

_The first thing she saw when her eyes opened was the emotion in Warrick's. "If I wasn't wearing the vest?"_

_He choked out his reply. "We wouldn't be having this conversation." _

"So there you have it." Catherine eased back into Warrick's arms on the leather couch.

Nick, sitting next to Catherine said, "If she wasn't wearing that vest..."

"Let's not go there, man." Warrick held her tighter.

Greg, sitting on the arm of the couch nodded his head.

Brass, across from the couch in an arm chair, sighed. "It's a good story for Vegas. Thirty seconds of spray from a modified AK47 capable of ninety rounds per minute. Fifteen cops and CSIs working the scene and we didn't lose anyone. Nine minor injuries and two cops in serious but stable condition. The odds were against us and we beat them."

Nick grumbled, "The two guys in the car…extremist nut jobs…had a grudge against LVPD for busting up one of their hate-rallies on a permit violation. Had nothing to do with the crime scene, it was a random act and we happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those guys were just sitting at home listening to their police scanner waiting for the right opportunity to exact some revenge."

Grissom sat on the edge of an overstuffed leather chair processing the information. Sara, looking white as a sheet, was perched on the chair's arm.

Noting the emotion on their faces, Catherine assured them. "We were all fine that's why I didn't call you on your night off. They're over dramatizing the whole thing." She knew they felt guilty for not being there when the team faced such a challenge but she also sensed they were frightened of what might have happened if they had been there. With two more on the scene would the odds Brass spoke of have been thrown off balance and a different, more tragic outcome have occurred?

For the first time ever, Catherine saw Sara comfort Grissom in front of the group. Gently she placed her hand on his back while saying, "I'm…I'm really glad that everyone is okay."

Desperate to cut the tension in the room, Catherine quipped, "It was nothing more than a chance for Sanders to _finally_ jump on top of me."

The group eased into a nervous laugh.

"Too bad I was too terrified to enjoy it." Greg joked back.

Warrick cracked, "Actually if you had been enjoying it, you would have had a reason to be terrified when I showed up."

Brass kept the ball rolling. "So Greg hit the ground twice? Once as a hero and once as a wilting flower. Good thing you keep an extra pair of skivvies in your locker, huh Greg?"

The laughter grew.

Relieved that the conversation was moving away from the morose, Catherine grinned. "Oh…I almost forgot. We didn't tell you the best part of the story. Nicky got his first good night kiss in six months."

_Sitting on the bumper of an ambulance, Nick and Greg were getting cleaned up by a couple of the EMTs on the scene. _

_EMT Carlson informed Nick. "The bullet just grazed you but you'll still need to get a tetanus shot and they'll put you on a round of antibiotics to be safe." _

"_I can handle that." Nick exhaled sharply. "How you doing over there, Greggo? You're not gonna pass out on me again, are you?" _

"_I wasn't scared." Greg replied while still shaking. _

"_Good for you hotshot because I was!" Nick cracked a smile. "It's okay to be freaked out when you come that close to biting it. Don't be so hard on yourself." _

_From behind, Nick heard a woman call his name. _

_Out of breath, Carrie hurried over to the ambulance. "I was packing and watching TV when they cut in with the breaking news. They said several crime scene investigators were injured and I knew you were working so…" She glanced at the bandage the EMT was wrapping around Nick's arm. "Are you okay?"_

_Thrilled to see her he blurted, "I am now."_

_The EMT finished his wrap. "You're all done, Stokes." As he stepped away, the EMT winked at Carrie. "Not to worry, it's a flesh wound and it hit his arm not the family jewels so he's good to go." _

"_Yeah, thanks for the update, pal!" Nick yelled after the EMT. "That was an overshare." _

_Once she knew it wasn't serious, Carried stepped closer and teased, "Nick, you'll do anything to get my attention, won't you?" Leaning over she sweetly kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you're okay." _

Smiling brightly, Sara said, "So is she moving to Vegas?"

"Yep." Nick beamed. "I think you'll really like her, Sara. I could see the two of you becoming good friends."

"If she likes you, I'm sure I'll like her."

The conversation rising beyond Brass's preferred glucose level, he had to end it. "Nick, this lovesick puppy routine doesn't suit you and it's killing me so why don't you do everyone a favor and take this girl over to 3rd street, grab a license, head to the Chapel of I Can't Wait to Lose My Freedom and get it over with already. I'll have a squad car swing round and give you a ball and chain. And don't worry, we'll still chip in for a wedding gift."

After a nice round of laughter at Nick's expense, Catherine decided it was time to switch targets. "Speaking of gifts." She motioned for Greg to grab the gift bag they brought for Sara and Grissom. "We have something for the two of you."

Glancing up at Sara, Grissom sarcastically said, "I'm sure it's nothing embarrassing."

"Trust me…we tried to go that route," Warrick informed them. "Cath wouldn't let us. She had something already planned."

"And yet that knowledge brings me no relief." Grissom prepared for the discomfort that would surely follow. "You open it, Sara."

After pulling out the green tissue paper, Sara reached in and pulled out an Ant Farm kit.

Grinning, Catherine explained, "I figured now that you were comfortably domestic and committed, the next natural step would be starting a family together."

After an awkward silence, a sunny smile popped up on Sara's face. "Thanks guys."

Knowing Sara had been transported back to the uncomfortable topic they thought they had stopped thinking about, Grissom took the box. "A deluxe kit. Very nice."

Happy the focus was off him, Nick joked, "You won't have to worry about them being lazy."

"And I read on the box that they're vegetarians." Greg enthusiastically said, "So Sara you'll be able to feed them."

Catherine shot him a dagger. "Is that some kind of sexist remark? She's the woman so she has to feed the kids? Why can't she be the breadwinner and Grissom stays home and feeds the kids? Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks women should be in the kitchen barefoot and…

"Brunch is ready!" Sara announced as she hopped off the arm of the chair. "I made it myself."

The announcement caught everyone's ear and sent a wave of fear through their intestinal tracts.

Brass groaned, "I don't know, Sara. These guys already escaped grievous bodily harm once today. Do we really want to tempt fate and have them eat your cooking?"

Nick was the first to stand up. "What the hell. I'm feeling lucky!"

"Thank you, Nick." Grissom stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I guess we know who is getting the highest marks come evaluation day."

Pleased with his choice, Nick went to find Sara in the kitchen.

Greg quickly followed with Catherine and Warrick reluctantly joining him.

Alone in the living room with Grissom, Brass took the opportunity to remind him of his task. "When are you going to…"

"After brunch I'll figure it out."

"Now I know why you let Sara cook." He patted his friend on the back. "You're hoping we'll all end up sick and you'll get a reprieve."


	30. Epilogue Part 5 of 5

**EPILOGUE** – Part 5 of 5

Walking into Grissom's home office, Catherine chuckled, "It must have killed you to watch her cube kiwis."

Shutting the door behind them he replied, "After the last twenty-four hours, she could have shredded them for all I care."

"The ring looks great." She took a seat.

"I was surprised the guys didn't give us a hard time about it." Moving behind his desk he sat in his chair.

"Guys only look at a girl's ring finger when they think there's a chance she might be single."

"So…" Catherine glanced around. "What are we here to discuss?"

"Change."

Her curiosity was piqued.

He couldn't put it off any longer. "I have to give up one of my team members to be the new day shift supervisor. You've earned it. You'd be great at it. And if Warrick wants to transfer with you that's what we'll do."

"Thank you." Sitting back she considered the offer. "It's what I've been working toward for a long time."

"I know."

She was surprised to hear the next words come out of her mouth. "But after last night I don't know if it's what I want anymore."

"Really?" It wasn't the answer he expected.

"A bullet in the Kevlar can make a woman rethink her priorities."

"And it can make people around her do the same."

"You see…things are going well right now and I don't need more responsibility and more time away from home. With my current schedule, I can be home for Lindsay when she needs me the most. I've got a great housekeeper watching her at night so I don't have to worry about that anymore. It's working." At peace with the decision she said, "The lab will always be here. Down the road, when the timing is better, I'm sure an opportunity will present itself again."

"I respect that decision, Catherine." Then he groaned. "Of course now my job is harder because I have to choose between Warrick and Nick."

"You always hate this supervisory stuff."

"Why do you think I'm not thrilled at the prospect of having to bring a new people into the team? I'll be found out."

"I know the real reason." After all these years, they were a family and he was having a hard time letting go.

* * *

In the kitchen, Sara was surrounded by stacks of dishes and curious men. 

"So Sara…" Nick needled her. "We couldn't help but notice that ring on your hand."

She knew it was only a matter of time and apparently time was up.

"Yeah, Sara." Brass flashed her a smile. "You uh…find that in a cracker jack box on your day off?"

"A shoebox actually." She laughed. "Do you really expect me to stand here and rinse dishes while all of you harass me, do you?"

"I'm not sure I believe you know how to rinse dishes," Warrick replied.

She offered an alternative. "How about going in the backyard."

"Like the dogs that we are?" Brass headed for the back door and Greg was right on his tail.

"Look! They have a hot tub," Greg pointed out as he walked through the door. "Should I grab my kit so we can swab the perimeter?"

"Not necessary." When Warrick reached the door he produced a swab. "I've already got one."

Gaping at Nick, she asked, "They're not really going to do that are they?"

On his way to the sink to help with the dishes he cracked up. "Sounds to me like you're worried they're going to find something."

Sara walked over to the window. "They're really doing it!"

"They only give you a hard time because they like you so much." He laughed again. "Well that and it's fun seeing you squirm."

Opening the window she yelled. "You need a warrant for that!"

Brass quickly corrected her. "You invited us in remember."

Nick tossed a dishrag over his shoulder. "Nice try."

Finished with their chat, Catherine and Grissom walked into the kitchen.

"Where is Warrick?" Grissom asked.

To which Sara cheerily replied, "Outside swabbing our hot tub with the other juvenile delinquents."

He shook his head. "I should have…"

"Yeah well, too late."

Catherine took Sara by the arm. "I want a house tour while Grissom speaks to the boys."

"Love to." Sara glared at Nick. "Finish the dishes."

"Yes, ma'am."

Catherine smiled. "Sounds like you really are ready for marriage, Nick."

When they were alone, Grissom said to Nick, "I need to discuss something with you."

"It wasn't my idea to swab the tub."

"Not that. It's work-related."

Nick stopped rinsing dishes and leaned against the counter.

"Brass is asking that I give up one of the team to days. He wants a new supervisor in there."

"We'll all miss Catherine."

"She turned it down." Pausing for a breath, he took another moment to think through the decision. "I…I'm giving you the opportunity."

Thrilled and stunned at the same time, Nick asked, "Why?"

Grissom was surprised by the question. "You don't think you're qualified?"

"I do but I want to know why you do."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Grissom walked about the room. "Because the last time you received a promotion it was taken away from lack of funding and you didn't complain. That showed me you love the job."

"And we all know when someone who loves the job leads the team, everyone benefits." Nick smiled at his mentor. "Much more important than being good at paperwork or politics."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"And we'll still get to work together every now and then. Plus we'll get to hang out at departmental meetings together."

"Are you kidding?" Grissom rolled his eyes. "I never go to those."

* * *

Walking down the hall, Catherine said, "I know you forbid the boys but…I get to see the bedroom, right?" 

"The boys are outside swabbing my hot tub. Can you _blame_ me for keeping them out of the bedroom?"

Catherine continued to bargain. "I'm planning on redecorating my bedroom now that Warrick's moving in so I wanted to see how you designed yours. You know…trying to blend the masculine and the feminine."

Reluctantly, Sara opened the door. "Go on in."

Surprised she was allowed access, Catherine breezed into the room. "Wow."

"I take it you like it."

"Love it!" Walking further into the room she eyed the details. "You have excellent taste, Sara."

"Thanks." Sara shut the door and joined Catherine in the center of the room. "You should have seen it before when it still had Mrs. Goodfella's décor." Thinking about it gave Sara the chills. "Gaudy gold and crystal fixtures, mirrors everywhere, red plush rug…think of the protein and microbes that were swimming in that rug."

Catherine cringed. "Sounds like the VIP room of a club I used to dance at." Standing next to the impressive mahogany bed she cracked a devious grin. "Four posters, huh. Better to tie…"

"Do I have to evict you?" Sara chuckled. "I thought you were here for decorating inspiration."

Catherine strolled to the other side of the room. "Colors?"

"Sage, Plum and Wheat. All sateen. Nothing under a 320 thread count."

"Luxurious."

"Well it's where you should be most comfortable."

"Speaking of comfortable…" Noticing a scant piece of lingerie peeking out from under the bed skirt, she delicately extracted it. "Someone didn't do a good enough job sweeping the scene."

Blushing, Sara blurted, "I'm glad you found that instead of Greg."

"La Perla Black Label." Catherine tossed the scrap of lace onto the bed. "He buy that for you or did you buy it to surprise him?"

"I bought it."

Raising her brows, Catherine replied, "Good girl. So I guess the drawstring pajama bottoms are out?"

"No, I still have them but only for special occasions." Sara grabbed the lingerie and stuffed it in a drawer. "Changing subject."

"Meet any of your neighbors yet? Or being the reclusive duo that you are, do you spend all of your free time locked away in the house?"

"You'll love this." Sara sat on the edge of the bed to tell her story. "Last month we were invited to this neighborhood party. Three different neighbors made a point of stopping us asking if we were planning to attend. Very nosy people around here."

"Well they were probably curious as hell about the two of you." Catherine peered out the window. "Staying out all night, bringing home bugs and never talking to anyone. I'm sure Mrs. Kravitz had a ton of blanks to fill. Did you actually go?"

"We did! We figured it was the only way to get them to stop bothering us."

Highly suspicious she probed, "How long did you stay?"

"Thirty minutes. We had it worked out in advance. I paged him, he paged me and we told everyone duty called."

"Now that sounds more like the two of you." Moving back toward the bed she asked, "What are you going to do to avoid the next one?"

"Well…I doubt we'll be invited back. Grissom went on and on about his Madagascar Hissing cockroaches when the guys were talking sports. And while I was stuck in the kitchen with ladies, one of them asked if I thought the dip smelled sour which of course I segued into 'you don't know a bad smell until you've processed decomp'."

Catherine sighed. "It's a good thing you have each other."

"Yeah."

"Sara…all joking aside, I have something serious I want to ask you and I apologize in advance if it makes you uncomfortable. That's not my intent."

"Sure." She couldn't imagine what it would be. "About Grissom?"

"No." Taking a seat next to Sara, she said, "Last night, after getting shot I started thinking about my life and…what if Warrick and I both had…well…what would happen to Lindsay." Sadness filled her voice. "Eddie's mom, her grandma, has cancer and she's not expected to make it and my family…you know they disowned me, not that I would want her with them."

"You're just upset about last night. That's why you're worried."

"Sara…I know you understand what it's like to wake up one day and find out you have no place to go."

Lowering her head, Sara nodded.

"I don't want Lindsay to be in that position. So if it's okay with you and Grissom, could I make arrangements for you to take her in should something happen to us. I know you would be able to help her get through it and give her the stability she would need."

"Catherine I…" Shocked by the intimacy of the request she stammered. "You have that much faith in me to take care of your daughter. I've never even cared for a dog. Do you really think I could…"

"Absolutely." She smiled. "I've seen how compassionate you are with victims and their families. I've seen you and Nick working on that foster kid program and how you light up when you're able to give a scared kid the support they need. Look at this house, you've turned into a home filled with warmth and love. You're a nurturer, Sara."

"I…I guess I've never looked at it that way."

Taking a deep breath, Catherine forced herself to lighten up. "I'm a Cat you know. I have nine lives. So I'm not planning on going anywhere. But I'd be an irresponsible mother if I didn't plan for this so will you talk to Grissom and see if he's okay with it."

"Yes. I will."

"Thanks." Standing up she grinned. "Now let me crack a joke about something in here so I can snap out of this somber mood."

"Go for it."

* * *

After walking into the backyard, Grissom pulled Brass aside. "It's done." 

"And…"

"Nick."

"Really?" Brass nodded with approval. "We'll make it effective next week."

"I told him not to say anything yet."

"Good. I'll talk to him later and go over the details. Then you can tell the team tomorrow."

"Okay." Grissom sighed. "I'll do the paperwork for his replacement."

Smiling, Brass reminded his friend, "Change is a good thing. Look at all the ones you've made in the last seven months."

Having reached his maximum, Grissom snapped. "But I'm still not going to the departmental meetings."

* * *

When Catherine and Sara returned from their tour, they were shocked to find Warrick, Nick, Greg, Brass and Grissom lying around on the living furniture clutching their stomachs and moaning. 

"No!" Sara panicked "This can _not_ be happening!"

"Gotcha!" The guys yelled, clearly pleased with themselves.

"Yeah…very funny. Party's over!" Sara grumbled. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Warrick stood up and said, "Gris sounds like she's talking to you too."

"No. He can stay." She smirked. "But I'll make him pay for it."

"That's our cue." Catherine snapped her fingers. "Let's go boys."

They all followed her out the door except Nick who stopped to pat Grissom on the shoulder as he walked by. "Don't worry, if you don't show up for shift we'll send someone over to untie you."

Sara guided Nick towards the hallway. "Don't you have a date later? Better get some rest." Laughing she shoved him out the door.

* * *

An hour later, happy to be guest free, Sara and Grissom embraced what was left of their honeymoon time. 

"Am I doing it right?" Sara whispered.

"Slow down a little and…"

"Like this?"

"Hmm…let me show you." Taking her hand in his he gently guided her.

"You're right…that's much easier."

In her ear he confidently said, "Well, I have been doing this for a long time so I should be good at it."

"And it's my first time so I'm glad you're here to help me." Smiling she asked, "So how old were you when you set up your first ant farm?"

"Seven maybe?" He helped her carefully pour in the last cup of sand. "I remember being very excited about it."

"That's not hard to imagine." She teased. "You always light up like a little boy whenever you're talking bugs."

"Well back then they brought me happiness and I guess I still feel that when I'm working with them today." He explained, "I could spend hours watching bugs because when I was consumed I didn't have to think about anything else."

"I used books to escape the world around me."

"And now we use this house to escape but the difference is…" From behind he wrapped his arms around her waist. "We have each other's company."

Smiling she asked, "Do you think we're ready?"

"I think we are."

"Okay." Sara opened the lid of the jar and released the ants Grissom had scooped up from the backyard, into the new home.

"And they're off and running."

"Look at them go." She relaxed against him.

With a hint of regret in his voice he said, "Unlike people, ants don't waste any time."

Not missing a beat she countered, "We've made up for plenty."

"When Catherine was telling us what happened did you think about…"

"Only for a second because I know now that 'what ifs' are a waste of time."

As he kissed her neck, he whispered. "Ants never ask what if."

"No. I'm sure they don't." Pointing to the farm, she said, "So far it looks like our ants are adjusting well."

"All forty of them."

"I'm growing attached to them already." She chuckled. "And to think only hours earlier I was frightened at the prospect of motherhood."

"Maternal instinct is biological."

"Are you saying forty ants just activated mine?"

Joining her in a light laugh. "Ahh…now we know Catherine's true intentions for giving the gift."

"Yeah. Here we are talking about the thing we stopped thinking about." His arms still wrapped around her, she turned to face him. "Although…I didn't really stop thinking about it. I just stopped talking about it. I've been confused ever since the subject came up."

Reaching up he brushed her hair off her face. "Me too."

Cautiously she asked, "Do you think we would be good at being…?"

"There's no way to know. It's not something science can test for and determine before people have…"

"If it was, a lot less people would be having…" A nervous laugh tumbled over her lips. "I can't believe we're talking about this. How does this work for other people? Is this something we should instinctively know definitively?"

"I can say definitively that I'm not ready to say no to the possibility."

"Me too."

Cupping her face in his hands he softly said, "So how about this. We open an investigation."

"And what would we investigate?"

"We analyze how it could work, what sacrifices we would need to make, make sure there aren't any medical issues to address. This way, we have all the information necessary to make an informed decision."

The ends of her lips tipped into a smile. "A feasibility study for lack of a better term?"

"Yes." Cracking a grin, he said, "And during that time maybe we'll even get comfortable enough to actually say the words we keep leaving out of our sentences."

She smiled brightly. "And the ants could function as a relevant experiment during the investigation phase."

"Yes." Leaning in he dotted her lips with a kiss.

"Should this be an open-ended investigation or do we want to establish a timeline?"

"Well…unfortunately time is not on our side so we don't have the luxury of a lengthy investigation."

She nodded. "So…we should pick a date for the review of information."

"We should."

Their foreheads met and their voices turned to whispers.

"Any ideas?" She pulled him closer.

"I can only think of one."

"Which is?"

His lips met hers as he answered. "Your birthday."

* * *

THE END

* * *

THANK YOU FOR READING!

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE ENTIRE RIDE !

* * *

Nextstory in the Series: Feasibility Study


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